


Bows and Wands

by hamsta97



Series: Bows and Wands [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Barney Barton-centric, Clint Barton-centric, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jeremy Renner's other characters are in this, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, all the characters - Freeform, because I could have been inventive and made OCs, or I could have watched a bunch of Jeremy Renner films and called it research, so many characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2018-12-15 00:32:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 43,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamsta97/pseuds/hamsta97
Summary: Alastor Moody had no idea what he was letting himself in for when he adopted his two young nephews. Clint Barton had no idea living in England would be as dangerous as it is.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written on Fanfiction.net, reposted and rewritten here.

**27th June 1973- Barney: 12, Clint: 9**

 

Alastor Moody was many things; an Auror, an old-blood, a duellist of considerable skill, scion of House Moody, etc. He was not qualified for this. But here he was, with his two nephews. Mentally he removed 'brother' from his list of qualification and added 'guardian'. It was his own fault. He'd agreed to be the lads' godfather back when they were born. Of course, he hadn't expected to actually  _need_  to look after them.

*

This was why he was waiting at the airport, watching the arrivals board. He and the rest of the Moody family had decided it would be too hard on the boys to make them Apparate across the Atlantic Ocean. Phil, Edith's Muggle-born schoolfriend, had offered to organise flights for them. Hence why Alastor was stuck here, watching a board. The flight from Iowa was landing. Then he saw them. Barney was the oldest he remembered, all long limbs and hair as red as a Weasley. Clint was clinging to his hand. He looked like Alastor's younger brothers had at that age, with messy sandy hair.

"Hello lads. I don't know if you'd remember me-"

"You're Uncle Alastor." said Barney. "You came over when Clint was born."

Alastor nodded. "That's me. Come on, I'll take you home."

The drive back was mostly silent. After all, what did you say to a boy who'd seen his mother murdered? He did bring up transferring to Hogwarts, to spare Barney being an ocean away from his brother. Barney had little enough to say, only that he'd miss being in Wampus. Clint asked if there was food at the house.

Alastor wished he'd thought to tidy before picking the boys up. His papers on his latest case were sprawled across the kitchen table while the breakfast pots were still in the sink.

"I ah- sorry for the mess."

Barney shrugged, putting the suitcase by the stairs.

"I don't mind."

Clint had disappeared into the living room. His voice came floating out.

"Your mirror's broken."

"It's a Foe-Glass," explained Alastor, "lets me keep an eye on my enemies. The closer they are, the clearer they are. I'm only in trouble if I see the whites of their eyes."

Clint reappeared from the living room, holding a Sneakoscope. Once Alastor had finished explaining what that did, he offered to show them their rooms. There was the big one at the front, overlooking the street and the smallest one next to the bathroom. Unsurprisingly, both boys wanted the big room. Alastor volunteered to move from his room, the one furthest from the stairs, into the smallest room. The argument over the bigger room lasted over lunch, going to the local park, dinner, and chasing a tabby cat down the street. Apparently whoever caught it would gain the big room. The cat escaped by hiding under a car.

"I should get the room." insisted Clint as they arrived at their driveway. "I need room to grow."

"Moron." muttered Barney.

"I heard that!"

Alastor lifted his hand. Both boys flinched as one. Alastor lowered his hand slowly.  _No sudden movements._

"Why don't we flip a coin to decide?"

Clint nodded. "Can I flip it?"

"I'll flip, I'm neutral."

So Alastor did, as Clint called for tails. Alastor revealed the dragon snarling on the coin and Clint scowled. Barney punched the air triumphantly before ruffling Clint's hair. Clint batted his hand away, scowl deepening. Eager to prevent the Second Wizarding War from starting in the driveway, Alastor herded them inside and pushed them into the living room while he moved their bags.

"Where's your broom Barney?"

"Don't have one, Dad didn't agree with me flying."

Once the clothes from the suitcase were divided between the boys' rooms, Alastor lugged their backpacks upstairs and left the rest for them to unpack. Downstairs, over hot chocolate, he convinced the boys to talk about decorating ideas.

 


	2. Barney's Sorting

** 1st September 1973- Barney: 13 Clint: 9 **

 

Ever since Barney had first gone to Ilvermony, he’d woken up with a sense of dread at the prospect of going to school. He enjoyed the learning itself and he definitely enjoyed being away from home. But he’d always had guilt nagging at him at the thought of leaving Clint with their father.

Today was different. Excitement and nerves warred in his stomach, leaving very little room for guilt. Clint would be safe, surrounded by Moody family members and some of the less unsavoury Bartons. Not that there were many left. And Clint’s nightmares were finally starting to ease off once it had sunk in that their father was imprisoned. It was Barney who still dreamed about their mother.

They Apparated to King’s Cross, in time to meet Uncle Douglas and their cousins at one of the cafes. Two of their cousins anyway. The others had either graduated or disappeared to a different part of the station. Jason was pale. Barney dropped into the empty chair next to Jem.

“You’ve got a fan.” observed Barney.

Jem grinned. Krista, his six-year-old sister, was sat on his lap trying to play with him. Her choice of game appeared to be driving toy cars over various areas of her brother’s body.

“I don’t play with toys any more though.”

 “Did you ever?” replied Barney before liberating Jem.

He produced his toy dragon, a birthday present from another cousin, and encouraged Krista to try and catch it. It was too nimble for him though, performing acrobatic feats Barney was sure real dragons couldn’t do. It did occasionally land on Barney’s shoulder. Krista would then bring her hand down, hoping speed would help her. It didn’t. The dragon would launch off Barney’s shoulder and Krista’s hand would come ringing down on Barney. Jem seemed it find it highly amusing.

“Alright Jason?”

“Jem won’t tell me what the Sorting really is. He says you have to fight a dragon.”

Jem looked delighted by the panic in their younger cousin’s voice. Barney grimaced. He had to be Sorted too, even though he was going to be a third year. Hopefully it would be as simple as Ilvermony, standing in a circle with the House symbol lighting up. Clint took Krista off Barney and sat on a different table with her. Uncle Alastor sat with the pair of them. Uncle Douglas seemed unconcerned by his daughter’s removal to a different table and stayed with his son and nephews. When Uncle Douglas had finished his coffee, they headed to Platform 9 3/4. It was busier than Barney had expected, and louder.

“Now, remember lad,” said Uncle Alastor, “don’t start fights.”

“I won’t.”

“But if you do get in a fight, _win_.” added Uncle Douglas.

Barney saluted. “Yessir.”

Uncle Douglas laughed and ruffled his hair. Clint wrapped his arms around Barney, almost squeezing the breath out of him.

“Write me every week.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Barton boys stick together.”

It was something their grandfather and uncle said often. Clint managed a smile. It looked easier than when they’d lived in America. Uncle Douglas held his fist out. Barney bumped fists with him.

“Keep an eye on the lads, will you?”

“Sure.”

The other two also said their goodbyes. Clint gave them both a hug and Krista began to cry. Barney decided to beat a hasty retreat, helping Jason put his trunk in one compartment before Jem urged him sit with him and meet his friends. Barney returned for one last hug from Clint before the train whistle blew.

“Go on lad.” said Uncle Alastor. “Have a good time.”

“Win the fights.” counselled Uncle Douglas.

“Write me every week!”

With that, Barney clambered onto the train and found Jem. Only his cousin had company. Two boys and a blonde girl were in the carriage.

“Barney, this is Gabriel Novak, Karla Sofen, and Akihiro Howlett. This is my cousin, Barney.”

“Another cousin?” said Karla, sounding despairing.

Jem shrugged. He’d propped his feet up on the seat but lifted them when Barney scowled. He promptly put them back on Barney’s lap.

“What Houses are you in?”

“Slytherin.” said Akihiro and Gabriel.

Karla was in Ravenclaw and Barney already knew Jem was in Hufflepuff. It was apparently a common House for Moodys. Karla asked about Barney’s immediate family which was just Clint. Gabriel had a brother the same age as did Akihiro. Jem kicked Barney at the same time as the door pushed open. Aaron, another cousin the year below Barney, grinned in. He, like Jem and Jason, bore an uncanny resemblance to Clint and therefore their great-grandfather. Another boy lingered behind him.

“Hey cuz. Heard you were on the train. How’d you like it so far?”

Barney shrugged. “Not bad. Hey, Jem won’t tell me what the Sorting is.”

Aaron laughed. “You just put a-”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Cross.”

Jem had his wand out, probably to cast a Silencing Charm. Hopefully to cast a Silencing Charm. As it was uncertain, and Jem was prone to violence, Aaron lifted his hands, shrugged at Barney to say, ‘sorry dude’ and left. The lingering boy followed.

“Nobody told me.” said Jem flatly. “Nobody’s telling you.”

Barney laughed. “Petty.”

Jem looked ridiculously proud of this assessment. The conversation between the other three drifted to their respective summers.

“I mean, we went to Spain.” said Gabriel. “So on the one hand, amazing. On the other, hot. So hot.”

Karla laughed. “You ungrateful shit. I went to Wales. It rained the entire time.”

Akihiro mentioned visiting his mother’s family. Then Karla turned to Barney.

“What about you Barney? What did you do?”

Barney couldn’t think of a good lie and he also didn’t want to tell the truth. _I saw my mom brutally murdered by my dad. Lovely weather though._ Jem however, saved him by talking about the surprise birthday party they’d thrown for Barney and the shopping in Diagon Alley with their grandmother.

*

They eventually arrived at Hogwarts late in the evening. The others made their way to the carriages while Barney trudged to the boats. He didn’t particularly wanted to row but as it was ‘custom’ they had to. Barney spotted Jason and waved. Jason came over, volunteering to share his boat with two other first-years. He didn’t try and introduce them.

“Hey,” said Jason when they were halfway across the lake, “Heck taught me a Muggle nursery rhyme. Wanna hear it?”

“Do we have a choice?” sneered one of the first-years.

Jason ignored him. “Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, I will make you scream.”

“That’s as creepy as Heck.” replied Barney irritably.

He repeated it enough that Barney began to consider pushing Jason out of the boat. But that would be morally wrong. Probably. Only if he died.

“It’s ‘life is but a dream’ idiot.” said the girl.

They started bickering over the right ending and Barney wondered if he could just swim to the shore. He managed to restrain himself from pushing his cousin out and from jumping out himself until they finally arrived. A stern witch, dressed all in black greeted them at the door. Barney had never been so glad to see a stern teacher in his life, it was probably the only thing that shut Jason up.

“I am Professor McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House. Follow me please.”

Barney hung back before trundling along behind the first-years. He felt like a giant among all the first-years. A big awkward one with the wrong accent and the wrong surname. McGonagall pushed open the door to the Great Hall. Barney had expected a process similar to Ilvermony, where you stood on a disk and were chosen by the House statues. Instead Hogwarts had a hat. A singing hat.

“I’m in hell.” muttered Barney.

One of the first-years stared up at him.

*

Gadreel turned to watch the first-years enter. Aaron twisted as well. The two of them were sat at the Hufflepuff table. Gadreel had chosen his seat deliberately so he couldn’t see Lucifer sneering at him.

“There he is. My cousin.”

Jem rolled his eyes at him. Barney would have been easy to spot even without Aaron pointing them out. Barney’s hair was red enough for a Weasley and he stood at least a head above the tallest first-years.

“Oh, that’s another cousin.”

McGonagall got out her list and began to go through the names.

“Abbey, Fred!”

A small boy sat on the stool. The Hat shouted for Slytherin. Gadreel always felt a little bitter about not being Sorted into Slytherin. His mother had been furious, his two oldest brothers mocking. Gabriel had patted him on the shoulder and moved on. Hufflepuff was the worst as far as his family was concerned. Fairness was an outdated practice.

“Come on, come on.” muttered Jem.

Prigusivac, another cousin of Aaron’s though one he avoided like the plague, was practically falling off his seat to get a better look.

“Barton, Barney!”

A whisper ran through the Hall at the name ‘Barton’. It had been the same when Regulus Black had been sorted. The Bartons were almost as notorious as the Lestranges these days, especially after Harold’s attack in the summer. Barney walked over to the stool with the Hat and dropped onto it. The stool was clearly too small for him. The Hat fell silent. It took three minutes for it to open its brim and shout:

“SLYTHERIN!”

The green-and-silver table erupted into cheers at the same time as Aaron and Jem groaned aloud.

“I wanted him in Hufflepuff.” whined Aaron.

“He’s in with Heck now.” said Jem irritably. “Fucking creep.”

Barney took the Hat off and moved down towards the Slytherin table. He flopped down next to Snape and Gabriel. He waved over to Aaron who waved back. A few more first-years were sorted and then it was the cousin’s turn.

“Moody, Jason!”

Akihiro walked with much more swagger than Barney had. The Hat was barely on his head before it was screaming for Hufflepuff. The table erupted again and Jem leaned over to ruffle his hair.

*

“This is clearly the best House then.” said Barney as he sat down.

Akihiro snorted. “Modest.”

Barney grinned. He’d never really believed in modesty. A boy opposite Barney sneered.

“Do you even know what Slytherin House looks for in its students?”

Barney shrugged. “Cunning, ambition, whatever else the Hat sang about.”

He glanced over to where Aaron was looking forlorn next to his friend. He waved and Aaron perked up, waving back. The friend, Gad something, looked away.

“Who are you waving to?” asked the boy on Barney’s right.

“Cousin.”

He asked for the other boy’s name. He introduced himself as Snape, the sneering boy as Mulciber and another boy as Wilkes.

“Lucifer Novak.” said the blond boy from opposite Akihiro. “I didn’t realise there were any school-age Bartons.”

“Yeah, well. Here I am.”

Barney only knew one uncle and his grandparents from the Barton side. His mom had refused to take him to meet anyone else. They’d visited the Barton family farm in… somewhere in England, twice. Lucifer turned back to.

“If I’d known you were on the train, I would have come to introduce myself.”

Gabriel seemed to bristle. “I talked to him.”

“Yes but Gadreel probably did too and everyone knows he’s the halfwit of the family. We must have made a terrible impression.”

 _You’re making one right now_. Barney didn’t say anything, instead giving him the same smile his father used to give the Aurors when they came knocking.

“Who is your father?” asked Snape.

“Harold Barton, right?” said Mulciber. “He came over to our house once.”

“What was it like?” asked Lucifer. “Being in the same house as a wizard that dedicated?”

Chick called from down the table, “Leave him alone Lucy. He’s new.”

For once, Barney was grateful to Chick. Mulciber scowled.

*

Once the Sorting was done and the food eaten, Barney followed Gabriel out of the Hall and towards the Slytherin common room.

“The password changes once a fortnight. The prefects will leave it on the noticeboard though. If you forget, you wait outside until someone lets you in.”

Barney was more curious about the common room though. The Slytherin one was longer but narrower with green lighting instead of the soft blue Barney had been used to in Wampus.

“Is that the lake?” asked Barney.

Gabriel glanced over. “Yes, sometimes we see the giant squid. Or the merfolk.”

“Cool.”

Barney’s family, according to Uncle Kenneth, had learned magic from the merfolk. According to Uncle Douglas, they had merfolk blood in them instead but that seemed like a biological impossibility. The swishing water was relaxing though and the low-backed chairs were comfortable. Barney was about to sit down when Mulciber came back with a friend.

“This is Avery. Avery, this is Barney Barton.”

Avery’s eyes widened. “Son of Harold Barton? What’s he like? Did he teach you any curses?”

Barney gritted his teeth. He would not start a fight on his first night here. Anyway, it wasn’t Harold who’d been teaching him about curses. He’d spent enough time around Chick and Jem to pick up a few of their tricks.

“Guy’s in Azkaban. Does it matter?” said Akihiro.

Barney had just discovered a new best friend. Lucifer stepped forward.

“I want to know more about him.”

“Got a crush on him?”

Barney had years of experience in seeing punches coming for him. He had a few less in dodging them. But he did manage to duck and slam his own fist into Lucifer’s stomach. It wasn’t a perfect hit, he’d forgotten most of Uncle Alastor’s advice, but he did remember not to tuck his thumb in. As Lucifer staggered back, Chick got him in a headlock.

“Fuck with my cousin again, and I’ll kill you.”

He said it very calmly, the same way Barney asked what radio station they were listening to. Chick then let Lucifer go and the two of them headed off to their dorm as if nothing had happened. Gabriel called Barney over, asking questions about the difference between Ilvermony and Hogwarts. Barney went to the sofa, but kept his hand on his wand. Avery and Mulciber had also looked a little pissed off.


	3. Ordinary Life

** 23rd September 1973- Barney: 13, Clint: 9 **

 

Clint was bored. He was always bored in school but today was worse than usual. Barney was away, it was raining, Uncle Alastor had been working away that week, and it was a Friday. The weekend was right around the corner, just behind Spanish class.

“Have you got ants in your pants?” Bobbi whispered.

As two of the clever kids, they sat next to each other in every class. Luckily, Clint liked Bobbi. Unluckily, the teachers always told them off for talking. Such as now.

“Barbara, is there something you want to share with the rest of the class?”

“No miss.”

“Good.”

Bobbi pulled a face as soon as the teacher’s back was turned.

*

The school bell rang and Clint charged outside with Bobbi and his other classmates. He sucked in a lungful of clean air- well, he lived in Manchester so really he sucked in a lungful of air- and scanned the playground for someone he was related to. As every Moody was an Auror, except for Grandma Carina and Aunt Miriam, their work schedules were changeable. Clint had been in afterschool club at least five times so far and school had only been open for two weeks. He couldn’t see any relatives immediately but Bobbi did drag him over to meet her mom.

“This is Clint.”

“Hello Clint. It’s lovely to meet you. Bobbi talks about you all the time.”

Bobbi’s Mom had a nice smile and one of those professional Muggle outfits Uncle Alastor had had to wear once for a case. He called it a ‘snoot’ or something.

“Nice to meet you ma’am.”

“Where’s your mum?”

“She died. I live with my uncle.”

Bobbi’s Mom made a sympathetic face.

“Mum, can Clint come to tea at ours?” asked Bobbi hopefully.

“We’d have to ask his uncle.”

There was a shout and Will came jogging across the playground. A few of the parents turned to watch him. He was wearing a snoot too, so he must have been working. He clapped a hand on Clint’s shoulder.

“Hey kiddo.”

“Will, can I go to Bobbi’s for tea?”

Will was already shaking his head before Clint finished his question.

“Sorry. I’m dropping you off with Uncle Alastor. You know what he’s like.”

Clint resisted the urge to pout because that was Krista did. So instead he sighed. Heavily. Will looked guilty though, which was more than Uncle Alastor would be.

“You can ask him if you can go some other time, if Bobbi’s mum doesn’t mind.”

Bobbi’s Mom confirmed that she wouldn’t mind and that Clint was welcome any time. Will thanked her, grabbed Clint’s hand and walked them out of view of the general public. Then he Apparated the pair of them down to the Ministry in London.

*

“Deep breaths.” said Will, not sounding remotely fazed by the fact that Clint was on his knees in the middle of the Ministry atrium.

“You could warn me.”

“I could.” agreed Will. “I will. Next time.”

Clint glared up at him, spotting the tiny smirk. Will was the nice cousin, usually, the one who sneaked Clint extra biscuits after meals at their great-grandfather’s and the one who taught Barney how to throw a punch. Springing a surprise Apparition on someone was more Hansel’s thing, especially when he’d discovered Barney vomited every time he Apparated.

“How’s the stomach?”

“Wobbly.”

Will laughed and held his hand out. Clint grudgingly took it. He was nine, not six like Krista, but the Ministry was big and it was full of people. Will guided him over to the elevator before Clint could get a proper look at the shouting man underneath the fountain.

“In.” said Will firmly.

One of the witches inside the elevator had a cardboard box that appeared to have smoke coming out of it. Smoke. Clint was tempted to ask what was in there but Will gave him a stern look. Then a small man got into the elevator and spotted Will.

“There you are, Ethan’s been going mad. Where have you been?”

“Family matter.” said Will.

“Fam-!” began the man before he glanced down at Clint.

Clint resembled his mother which meant that he also resembled a good portion of the Moody family, Will included. To the point where one old woman in Manchester had thought Hansel was Clint’s brother, not Barney, which had been more than a little awkward.

“You brought him here?!” hissed the man, trying to be subtle. “Ethan’s going to-”

Clint scowled up at him. He wasn’t that far away. Will’s face had shuttered down like it did when someone asked about work.

“Ethan can deal with it, Benji. I’m dropping my cousin off with my uncle and then I’ll come back to the office and tell Ethan why everything he’s planned is wrong.”

Clint giggled at that, despite himself. He knew Will was smart, the smartest in the family according to his granddad. Benji sputtered and Will shared another small smirk with Clint. They got off the elevator and trundled down a corridor. Clint had never actually been in the Auror offices before. They weren’t proper offices, just cubicles. Some cubicles were bigger than others, those were shared by teams according to Will. Benji headed to their cubicle and Will steered Clint down to a row of chairs outside an actual office. The nameplaque on the office said ‘Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Department’.

“Just wait here, Uncle Alastor will be out soon.” promised Will.

Then he left, leaving Clint stuck on one of the hard wooden chairs. There was another kid sat there, around the same age as Clint. She had red hair, though hers was darker than Barney’s, and she was very pale.

“Hi.” said Clint, because there was a person sat there and he was bored.

The girl glared at him and went back to her book. Oh, she was probably annoyed Clint had interrupted her reading. Barney always pretended to cuff him with the book if Clint interrupted Barney’s reading. Then Gretel had actually hit him with her book when he’d done it to her. Clint contemplated the best way to ask Uncle Alastor to let him have tea at Bobbi’s when the girl looked back up at him.

“Privyet.”

 Clint wondered if that was her name. Possibly. Probably. She had a thick accent, like the ones the villains have on the old TV Hansel and Chick had scrounged up from somewhere. It hadn’t come with an instruction manual, as far as Clint could tell, so Jem and Barney had had to try and figure out how to actually make it work. They’d fused the lights three times before Uncle Douglas and Grandma had come to find out what was going on. Then Chick had tried to push Heck into the TV and Gretel had banned Chick from the room. Kenny produced the instruction manual after he’d drawn on it.

Anyway, the point was her accent was cool. Clint pointed to himself.

“Clint.”

Privyet smiled at him. Clint returned it. She patted the seat next to her, so Clint grabbed his reading folder and came to sit next to her. Her book was written in something that wasn’t English. That was when it occurred to Clint that Privyet might not actually speak English. So Clint dug his school reading book (The Railway Children, _ugh_ ) out of his bag and held it out to her. Privyet opened it and looked through, pointing at the pictures. Clint would have done the same with her book, but she didn’t have any pictures in hers.

Once they’d exhausted any and all ‘point at pictures’ games, Clint got to his feet. Privyet looked disappointed so he stuck his hand out.

“Come on, I’ll show you around.”

Privyet just stared at him so he wiggled his hand at her. She glanced over at the office door and frowned. Clint put a finger to his lips. She grinned at that, grabbed his hand, and followed him down the corridor. Clint managed to remember which floor the fountain was on and took her over. Privyet seemed to like the fountain, though she looked vaguely horrified by the wand polishing service.

*

Alastor desperately wanted a drink. Half an hour of arguing with Ivan Romanov was enough to drive anyone to drink.

“Well, I think this was a productive meeting.” said Romanov as they walked out.

Alastor wasn’t really paying attention though. There was a Clint-shaped gap in the air where he was supposed to be. He could have gone with Will but that was highly doubtful. Will’s team leader wasn’t the sort of man to let a child stay in a meeting.

“Where is my daughter?” asked Romanov. “Natalia!”

Alastor headed over to Will’s cubicle to ask if he knew where Clint was. The response he got was a blank look followed by blind panic. Alastor’s stomach dropped. Will came hurrying out behind him and joined in the search with his team. Romanov was yelling at anyone who’d listen what would happen if his daughter wasn’t found. Alastor was not yelling because he was completely calm. The fact that there was a pit gnawing in his stomach meant nothing.

_An hour later…_

Alastor was starting to panic. A little. Clint was nowhere on the second floor. He was not in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures which had been Alastor’s next guess. Phil had joined in the search now, along with Bobby Singer and John Winchester. Romanov had stopped shouting and had just gone pale.

“Where else would he go?” asked Bobby, able to perfectly reasonable.

Will volunteered an answer. “He likes that centaur statue in the atrium. Maybe he went down there?”

Alastor grunted. Will had apologised three times already. When they arrived in the atrium after an awkward ride in the lift, Alastor spotted Clint perched on the rim of the fountain.

“Clint Barton!” rumbled Alastor as he pushed his way through the crowds.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” thundered Romanov.

Alastor hadn’t even noticed the giggling redheaded girl. Clint was beaming as if he’d earned fifty House points.

“Where the hell did you go?!” snapped Will.

Clint shrugged. “Round the Ministry. This is Privyet. She doesn’t speak English, I don’t think.”

Romanov was being given a much sullener account of the afternoon’s excitement.

“I said to wait for Uncle Alastor! You scared us! We’ve been looking for you for an hour. An hour, Clinton.”

Clint spat, “Don’t call me that!”

Will looked like he had a cutting response ready. Alastor interrupted, foreseeing the inevitable end of such an argument, and guided Clint back to his cubicle and sent Will back to his team. John and Bobby, relieved the kids had been found, went back to their own cases while Romanov continued to argue with Natalia in the middle of the corridor.

“Clint, when one of us tells you to stay somewhere, you have to do that. Otherwise we worry.”

Clint swung his legs back and forth. He opened and closed his mouth a few times. Thankfully, Alastor had had a quiet talk with Barney before the latter had left for Hogwarts. _‘Clint can’t always figure out what he wants to say. So you gotta help him sometimes.’_

“OK, let’s take a step back.” said Alastor. “Do you understand why Will and I were so worried?”

Clint shook his head. Alastor glanced at the photo of Lestrange that was sneering down at him.

“The thing is, we have dangerous jobs. And we make enemies. The thought of one of them snatching you is… it’s terrifying kid. When you disappeared, all I could think about was what if one of them had you.”

“I didn’t think you got scared of anything.” mumbled Clint.

“Well I do. You disappearing is pretty scary.” Clint half-smiled at that so Alastor counted it as a small victory. “Why didn’t you stay where Will left you?”

There was a long pause. Alastor didn’t interrupt.

“’Cause it’s boring! I’m always bored and I’m always stuck waiting and at least in the summer I had the others to talk to and play with even when you were out working and now all I’ve got is after-school club or occasionally getting picked up by someone and then all they do is work. And it’s not fair, just ‘cause I can’t go to Hogwarts yet!”

Alastor leaned back. It was true that in the holidays, Clint could hang out with his older cousins and be safe there. But in termtime it clearly wasn’t going to work. Not if Clint was this frustrated two weeks in. And now he was eying Alastor warily as if he’d just realised that he’d been yelling.

“Alright kid.” said Alastor, making sure not to raise his hands or voice. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Can I go to Bobbi’s for tea next week? Her mom said I could if you said I could.”

Alastor laughed. “I don’t see why not. I’ll talk to her next week.”

Clint’s smile could have lit up a room.

*

“Uncle Alastor, Uncle Alastor, Barney’s written, there’s a letter from Barney!” was the enthusiastic wake-up call Alastor received on Saturday.

“What does it say?”

Clint was jumping up and down in the doorway to Alastor’s room, waving the letter above his head. He then bounced onto Alastor’s bed, completely heedless of the fact that he’d jumped _on_ Alastor while doing so.

“Read it, read it!”

Alastor was going to lock the sugar bowl up.

_Hey Clint and Uncle Alastor,_

_I got on the Quidditch team!! I only tried out because Jem dared me to. I’m a Chaser and Akihiro is a Beater. Jem tried out for Beater but they said to try next year so he’s really ~~pissed~~ angry about that. Nathan, that’s the Slytherin Captain, said my broom’s really good so thanks again Uncle. _

_Classes are fine, I guess. There’s a couple of ~~pricks~~ not very nice people here but I haven’t started any fights, like you said. Chick broke Mulciber’s nose for me. He says ‘hi’. I think. I don’t know, he had his mouth full at the time. _

_There’s not much else to say, I guess. How’s home? Hey Clint, did you manage to get the ball out of the chimney?_

_Lots of love, Barney_

Alastor rubbed his forehead.

“Why is there a ball in the chimney?”

“Hansel dared me. It’s not there anymore, anyway.”

“Thank Merlin for that.”

“It’s in the toilet.”

“Well shit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Barney's cousins are characters Jeremy Renner has played in other films like Hansel and Gretel, the Bourne Legacy, the Town, Love Comes to the Executioner, etc. 
> 
> Feel free to leave a kudos or comment!


	4. The Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a mention of child abuse and violence against children. Skip from "look what I found!" and continue reading at "Shit, move!". Also skip from the second "Greyback, find them!" to "Your ace..." It's as non-descriptive as I could make it. See end notes for more details.

**12 th October 1973: Barney- 13 Clint- 9**

 

Alastor was leaning against the car park wall when Clint came out of school. He was chattering to a friend he’d made, Bobbi something. Alastor lifted a hand and Clint happily skipped over.

“How was school?”

“I got full marks on a test! Full marks Uncle Alastor!”

“Well done! I’m proud of you.”

Clint told him, in detail, about every answer he’d written and every conversation he’d had. They were walking along the street next to the park when Alastor heard the popping.

“Uncle!” shouted Clint.

Alastor looked up to see six Death Eaters, wearing their masks and cloaks.

“Avada Ked-“

Alastor flicked his wand out of his pocket and cut the Death Eater off mid-word.

“Run Clint!”

He pushed him and Clint, for once in his life, did as he was told. With Clint out of the way, Alastor began to duel. Whoever they were, they were good. At least two could cast non-verbal skills. Three times Alastor had to throw himself to the side when a green light appeared. The others were still good, casting curses and hexes almost quicker than Alastor could cope with.

“Confringo!” shouted one, probably a Lestrange.

Alastor rolled to the closest Death Eater, ignoring whatever had been blown up. He snapped their knee. The Death Eater screeched and stumbled. Alastor used the opportunity to pull whoever it was in front of him as a shield. When he looked up though, one of the Death Eaters was looking towards the park. He took the opportunity to cast the Expulso Curse, sending the distracted Death Eater flying into a brick wall. Something hit one of Probably-Lestrange, who staggered.

“Petrificus Totalus.” muttered Alastor.

The Body-Bind did its job, removing another Death Eater. One of the unharmed Death Eaters swore, and flicked their wrist. The green light hit their comrade, making them hang limp in Alastor’s arms. Probably-Lestrange brought the previously bound Death Eater to their feet. Swearer cast a spell at Alastor. There was a flash of white light and then burning pain in Alastor’s left eye. He dropped the dead Death Eater, staggering back. He put a hand over his eye and flicked out a curse before they could attack. The previously bound Death Eater fell dead. The one Alastor had sent into a wall had disappeared. He took the opportunity to weigh up his odds. Swearer, Probably-Lestrange, Silent, and the one that had been sent into a wall. At least three Death Eaters, one woozy, one possibly wounded, two unharmed, against a definitely wounded Alastor. He was about to Apparate away when he remembered.

_Clint._

The nine-year-old wouldn’t stand a chance against one, let alone four. The two sides considered each other and Alastor considered blowing all five of them up. One of them stumbled forwards, yelping.

“Greyback, find them!” asked Probably-Lestrange.

 _Merlin’s balls, Greyback_. That made the decision even easier for Alastor. He’d take his time with Clint. If he found him. He still couldn’t see a damn thing out of his left eye and he was probably going to pass out any minute. A voice called back.

“Look what I found!”

Greyback was trotting back, carrying a small boy by the scruff of his neck. Alastor went cold. Blood fanned down the side of Clint’s face.

“Reckon we’ll keep this one, Moody. Have him join the family.”

The silent unharmed Death Eater twirled their wand lazily.

“Better idea. Crucio.”

It turned out hearing Clint scream was much more painful than his eye. Alastor fired a Killing Curse at the Death Eater casting the curse. They crumpled to the ground. Then Alastor went soaring through the air, landing on the street a few metres down. White flashed across his vision. Groaning, he stumbled back to his feet. Breathing was difficult. Greyback was still there. Fury and Shacklebolt were there, wands out and duelling with Greyback and Swearer. Probably-Lestrange was already on the ground. Clint had disappeared, hopefully back to whatever hidey-hole he’d been in before Greyback had grabbed him. Alastor cast a curse at Swearer.

“Shit, move!”

Swearer and Greyback Disapparated before Alastor could think to Stun either of them.

“What the hell happened to you?” asked Shacklebolt.

“Clint.” said Alastor.

He stumbled over to the bodies. One was noticeably smaller than the others. Breathing suddenly became a distant thought. He tried to kneel but stumbled and almost fell flat on his face. His eye was throbbing, his ribs were probably broken.

“Clint.”

Clint looked over at him with a bloody knife and a long scratch down the side of his face. He was breathing heavily, probably an after-effect of the Cruciatus Curse. His smile dropped and his eyes widened as he looked at Alastor’s face. Merlin, he probably blamed Alastor for the attack.

“How badly are you hurt?” asked Alastor.

Clint’s answer was lost to him as the world turned black.

*

Barney was messing around with his friends when Professor Slughorn came to find him.

“Barney, Professor Dumbledore wants to see you.”

Barney glanced over at Jem who shrugged. Slughorn let him into Dumbledore’s office and then positioned himself by the door. Dumbledore was sat behind his desk, looking serene as ever. The phoenix eyed him beadily.

“Whatever it was you think I’ve done sir, I didn’t.”

Dumbledore smiled. “Oh I’m quite sure you’ve done nothing wrong. Have a seat Mr Barton.”

Barney lowered himself into the chair opposite Dumbledore’s. Dumbledore handed him a letter, still serene. _Not in trouble then_. Barney flicked the letter open suspiciously. As he read it, the words began to blur together.

_Alastor Moody… attacked… St Mungo’s… unstable…_

“My brother?” asked Barney. “This doesn’t mention my brother. Why isn’t he mentioned? Sir.”

Some small part of Barney thought Dumbledore was going to say ‘Because he’s fine and staying at a friend’s’. The sensible part knew he wasn’t.

“I’m afraid your brother is also in St Mungo’s.”

“Wait, Clint’s in hospital? Why? He wasn’t even there.”

Dumbledore sighed. “He was. I’m told he and your uncle were on their way back from school. Clint was attacked with a Cruciatus Curse.”

“What? Can I see them sir? I mean, he’s my brother. And Alastor’s my uncle.”

Dumbledore smiled and gestured to the phoenix.

“Hold Fawkes, he will take you to St Mungo’s.”

Barney sceptically grabbed the phoenix.

*

Clint was in the spare room at his grandma’s when he heard Barney’s voice. Footsteps thumped up the stairs and a shock of red hair popped round the door. The worry on Barney’s face melted into a warm smile the moment he saw Clint.

“Hey Clint-bro.”

He closed the door behind him and came to sit on the bed. It was wide enough that Clint’s feet didn’t touch the floor even when he sat on the edge. Barney leaned all the way back against the wall, pulling Clint with him.

“Ow.”

“Sorry. Wanna talk about it?”

“Thought Grandma would have told you.”

“I didn’t ask what happened.” said Barney gently. “I asked if you wanted to talk about it. Heard some stuff about a knife.”

Clint’s hand went to his face.

“Clint. Talk to me.”

“We were walking back from school-”

_After Uncle Alastor had told him to run, he’d taken off into the hedges lining the pavement. From there, he had the park at his back and it was almost impossible to see someone hiding in those hedges, especially at dusk. He found a small gap in the hedge where he could see the lights flash across. Uncle Alastor was holding his own but he almost got hit by one of the green lights._

_“Confringo!”_

_There was an explosion and fire sprang up from a car further down the street. As Uncle Alastor moved closer to one of the masked people, the biggest was about to cast a curse. Clint fumbled on the ground, grabbed a rock and lobbed it through one of the gaps in the hedge. It hit the masked person on the back of the head-_

“You threw a rock at a Death Eater.” said Barney. “Not just any Death Eater, the biggest one there.”

Clint wasn’t sure if he was pleased or annoyed. He shifted slightly and winced.

“Well, I don’t have a wand. And I didn’t know it was a Death Eater.”

“Fuck. Go on.”

“That’s a bad word.”

“Clint.”

_Two of the Death Eaters turned to look towards him. Uncle Alastor cast something and the Death Eater Clint had hit went flying backwards. Clint found himself wincing as he watched the man collide with a brick wall. He threw another rock at one of the people looking towards the park. It caught them in the shoulder instead of the head but they still spun. One Death Eater snapped to attention and fell, still in the same pose. White light streaked towards Uncle Alastor and he took a few steps back. Clint gasped before remembering himself and biting his lip tightly._

_“Greyback, find them!”_

_A second later, a hand tightened round Clint’s arm and he was hauled out of the hedge. He kicked whoever was holding him. From the grunt, it sounded like he got them in the stomach. The hand tightened round his arm and a claw or a knife traced its way down the side of his face._

_“Well, aren’t you a surprise?”_

_The voice was deep and raspy. A hand grabbed him by the back of his neck, letting go of his arm. Clint could feel blood oozing down his face._

_“Look what I found! Reckon we’ll keep this one, Moody. Have him join the family.”_

_Clint looked over to Uncle Alastor. He couldn’t see him properly in the fading light but he looked like he had blood on his face too. One of the Death Eaters twirled their wand._

_“Better idea. Crucio.”_

Clint broke off at that point. He didn’t want to talk about the next bit. Clint had thought getting his face bounced off a brick wall had hurt. This had been like a thousand hot knives burning him, setting his insides on fire. He’d screamed until his throat was sore, and then screamed some more. The pain hadn’t quite faded, more like it had gone from a cut to a bruise. But it had been a hell of a bruise. Then he’d been dropped on the ground.

He hadn’t realised he was shaking until he felt Barney tugging him against his chest like he was a teddy bear. Part of Clint wanted to complain, he wasn’t a _baby_ , but the far larger part of him was very glad his big brother was back. Barney didn’t push him to carry on but Clint did anyway, skipping the hot knives stabbing him a thousand times part.

_Every part of him ached but Clint was determined to lift at least his head. Every part of him felt like it had been kicked the length of a Quidditch pitch and back again. He spotted the knife on the ground, probably the same one that had been used to cut his face. He grabbed it and looked up at the Death Eaters stood on either side of him. The biggest, Greyback, had moved further away but there was one right there. Clint managed to grab the handle of the knife in shaking hands and bring it into the man’s leg. The man screamed. Lights flashed over Clint’s head and the man tumbled to the ground. Clint pulled the knife back out and threw it away. The man turned his head and reached to grab for Clint. A jet of red light had hit him and he’d tumbled backwards._

_Clint wasn’t sure how much time had passed but he ached. The blood had stopped oozing down his face. He tried to sit up but his arms wouldn’t hold him up properly. He did manage a strange half-roll that left his upper body facing the sky. Uncle Alastor’s face loomed over him. Clint began to smile until he realised exactly what was wrong with his uncle’s face. One of his_ eyes _was missing._

_“Your face…”_

_That was when Uncle Alastor hit the ground on top of the man Clint stabbed_. 

“The other Aurors took me to St Mungo’s. I haven’t been back that long. I’m fine though.”

“We don’t lie to each other.” said Barney, still quiet.

One hand was tracing circles on Clint’s arm, the same way he used to when they were hiding in the loft.

“I was so scared, when that man- Greyback- grabbed me, I wet myself. And now, I’m scared that when I go to sleep, I’ll see it again.”

“Everybody gets scared Clint. That’s just being alive.”

“You’re never scared.”

There was a long pause. When Barney finally did speak again, all emotion had left his voice. 

“When we hid from Dad, I was scared. I wanted to cry but if I did, he’d find us. He still scares me. I dream about him, you know. Sometimes I wake up and forget that we live with Uncle Alastor, and I think he’s gonna come back and break my hands again.”

Clint twisted his head up. Barney was staring at the wall opposite the bed. He’d never seemed scared, ever. Even when he was crying. Digesting this new information, Clint leaned back down and tugged Barney’s arm higher up. The warmth helped with the pain.

“How do you get the dreams to stop?”

“You wake up.”

Clint slowly rolled over, wrapping one arm around Barney as if he was the teddy bear now. Barney didn’t seem to mind, just shifted Clint’s elbow from where it was digging into his stomach.

“If I get a bad dream, will you wake me up?”

“Yes.” replied Barney.

So Clint let himself fall asleep, with Barney rubbing circles into his back and singing an old song their mother used to sing after bad dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clint is grabbed by Fenrir Greyback and is cut on his face. An unnamed Death Eater uses the Cruciatus Curse on him for a few seconds. Alastor kills the Death Eater. Clint briefly describes it in his thoughts and its effects on him to Barney.


	5. Family Gatherings

** 13th October 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9 **

 

There was nothing like a family gathering to make Barney think he was the only one out of his entire family with half a brain.

“We should enrol him in archery.” said Old Man Moody, Barney’s great-grandfather.

“Perhaps a duelling club as well.” offered Grampa Conall.

Barney resisted the urge to scream.

“Or help.” said Adrianna. “He’s nine.”

“The voice of reason.” said Will, pointing at her. “Barney’s right. He’s a kid. Maybe we shouldn’t get the weapon wall out just yet.”

They were seated around Grandma Carina’s dining table. Not everyone was there, most of the kids except Barney, Clint, and Krista, were at Hogwarts while some of the adults were at work. And Uncle Alastor was in St Mungo’s. Barney wasn’t allowed to see him yet apparently, they needed to wait another week. Old Man Moody had the head seat, naturally. There was an empty chair for Uncle Alastor. Everyone seemed to have their own seat. Barney was at the bottom of the table.

“The boy needs to be able to defend himself better than throwing a few rocks. Though, it was very imaginative. He could be a good Auror.” mused the patriarch.

Barney finally spoke up. “Can we wait ‘til he graduates to decide his career?”

He regretted it when every single person turned to look at him. Will was trying not to laugh, the traitor. Uncle Kenneth, Old Man Moody’s other son, scowled.

“Why is there a child here?”

“I’m Clint’s representative.” said Barney.

Will, sat next to Barney and hidden from the older generations’ eyes, mouthed ‘Good thinking’. The adults turned back to face Old Man Moody. There was a scream from upstairs. Barney didn’t bother to excuse himself and rushed upstairs. Clint was awake when he got to his room.

“Hey kid.”

Clint did his best to pretend he hadn’t been crying. Instead, he hopped off the bed.

“I’m fine.”

“Hungry?”

“Yeah. Can I have sausages?”

“I have no idea.” replied Barney honestly. “I haven’t looked in the cupboards.”

The two of them went back downstairs, Clint still clad in his pyjamas. Barney wasn’t going to even try and get him to change. Barney ushered Clint to the kitchen. Will and Old Man Moody came in while Barney was rooting through the cupboards and complaining about the very wizard-orientated selection.

“Do they even have real food? Look at this. ‘Dervish’s Hippogriff Cereal’. Can’t we just have Coco Pops?”

“Don’t they have Dervish in America?” asked Will, hopping onto a stool.

“It’s empty anyway.” said Barney.

“Mom always bought from No-Maj shops.” said Clint. “She said it was cheaper. Really, nothing?”

“Do you want a pickle and a burger bun?”

“Not really.”

“Then there’s nothing.”

Old Man Moody, who so far had just been stood there watching, finally interrupted.

“I’ll take you out for breakfast Clint, when you’re dressed. And we can talk about some after-school classes for you. I’m sure you find it very boring, just you and your uncle in the house.”

“I go over to Bobbi’s a lot.”

*

_One week later…_

Barney lingered outside the hospital room. Old Man Moody was taking Clint to school for his first proper day back. His teachers had been given a No-Maj acceptable version, claiming that his uncle was an important figure in the police force and his great-grandfather was an important politician.

“Mr Barton?” asked a Healer. “Your uncle’s ready for you.”

Barney thanked her as he slipped into the room. Uncle Alastor looked worse than he’d expected. One of his eyes was completely bandaged up and he seemed… smaller, lying in the bed.

“Hey.” said Barney.

The unbandaged eye fluttered open. Uncle Alastor looked vaguely confused as he looked around. Barney moved to the other side of the bed. The confusion cleared and Uncle Alastor’s face creased into a smile.

“Barney. Is Clint OK?”

Barney grabbed a chair and sat down.

“He’s still scared. He keeps screaming in his sleep and coming in to sleep with me. The Old Man’s signed him up for martial arts and archery. So, I guess that’s his Halloween costume sorted forever.”

Uncle Alastor laughed then groaned as he lifted a hand to his face.

“Merlin, don’t make me laugh.”

“Sorry. I have to go back to Hogwarts today, anyway. Adrianna’s Apparating me there when I leave.”

Uncle Alastor nodded. His unbandaged eye was trying to close.

“You’re tired. I’ll be back at Christmas.”

“I won’t still be here.”

Barney didn’t bother pointing out that Uncle Alastor’s _eye had been ripped out_ which probably warranted a longer hospital stay. He left, meeting Adrianna outside. She held her hand out.

“Ready to go?”

“Not really.”

Adrianna smiled and they Apparated outside the Three Broomsticks. Barney bent over and vomited. He hated Apparition.

“You still vomit?”

“Yes.”

Adrianna laughed, ruffling his hair. When Barney straightened up, he took his suitcase, promised to say hello to his cousins on her behalf, and headed off to Hogwarts. He got back during morning classes so he was able to unpack, grab his school bag and head to Transfiguration.

*

The class went silent when Barney walked in. Even Professor McGonagall faltered for a moment.

“Ah, Mr Barton. Take a seat next to Mr Black.”

Barney scanned the room. There were no Blacks in Slytherin in his year so it had to be one of the Gryffindors. He had no idea which one. Then a boy in the middle of the class lifted his hand. Barney made his way down the classroom. He recognised him up close as one of the pack of four that bullied other kids. Nothing as bad as Chick, or even Mulciber and Avery, but still a jackass. The class whispered as he sat down.

“Now, back to our work. Can anybody tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf?”

“Where’s Moony when you need him?” whispered a fat blond Gryffindor boy.

“Shut up Peter.” muttered the other boy.

Barney dug his work out of his bag and put it on the table. Gabriel’s voice drifted over, answering the question. The whispering continued but stopped whenever Professor McGonagall looked in a whisperer’s direction. Peter turned around in his seat.

“Did you see the attack?”

“How could I?” asked Barney. “I was in Hogwarts.”

“Mr Pettigrew, is there something you would like to share with the class?”

“No Professor!”

Barney didn’t know people could actually squeak. The rest of class passed the same way as most Transfiguration classes, meaning Akihiro almost killed the poor bird he was Transfiguring and Gabriel succeeded effortlessly.

*

“Come on,” said Gabriel once class had ended. “Let’s go.”

Barney finished packing up and headed out with them. He’d barely set a foot outside the door when someone launched themselves at him, wrapping him in a hug.  He staggered backwards, saved by Akihiro and Gabriel catching him. The hugger drew back, revealing themselves to be Gretel, one of the older cousins and Adrianna’s daughter.

“There you are. How’s Clint? And Uncle Alastor? Come with us, tell us everything.”

“Can I get lunch first?” asked Barney.

His breakfast was still outside the Three Broomsticks. Unless Adrianna vanished it.

“Your mom says hi.”

“Hansel’s already gone to get you some food. Come on.”

She didn’t exactly give Barney a choice, grabbing him by the arm and hoicking him off towards an empty classroom. Aaron and Heck were already there, studiously ignoring each other. Gretel dropped Barney’s arm, letting him sink into a chair. Aaron grinned at him. Barney returned it while trying to rub his arm without letting Gretel see. She really didn’t need the ego boost. Jem came then, with slightly singed hair.

“You’re back!” he exclaimed, hugging Barney.

“Why is everyone acting like I’m the one that got attacked?” asked Barney.

He still hugged Jem back though. Jem let him go, flopping into the chair next to Barney and propping his feet up on the table. Gretel rolled her eyes. She was perched on a table as if that was somehow better.

“We’re concerned about Clint. And you’ve been gone a week. That only happens when it’s really serious. And you’re Jem’s only friend.”

“That’s not true! He’s my best friend, not my only friend.”

“Thanks Jem.”

“Touching.” said Chick from the doorway. “Heckie, Heckie, Heck. What are _you_ doing here?”

“They’re my family too, idiot.” replied Heck.

Chick smiled nastily as he chose a seat as far away from Heck as possible. Aaron began to look a little uncomfortable at being between the pair of them. Barney didn’t blame him. Jem called arguments between the Prigusivac brothers ‘Creepy vs Creepier’.

“I’m here.” said Hansel, carrying a paper bag in one hand and Jason in the other.

“Put the first year down.” said Barney.

“Here’s lunch.” said Hansel, dropping the bag on the desk. “Got it for you, Jem, Jay, and Aaron. I would get something for Heck but I don’t think they serve bugs here.”

“Hansel.”

Hansel rolled his eyes and dropped Jason. The younger boy rubbed the back of his neck while scowling up at his cousin.

“Ass.”

“I heard that. Anyway, Barney, tell us how Clint is. And Uncle Alastor.”

Barney gave them the same report he’d given Uncle Alastor about Clint and then informed that Uncle Alastor had lost an eye. Hansel winced in sympathy, Gretel let out a string of colourful swear words, Jason tried not to look shocked.

“Well, that explains the note I got from the Old Man.” said Hansel, mimicking Jem and propping his feet up on a table.

“You never told me you got a note.”

“Why didn’t I get a note?”

Hansel rolled his eyes again. Barney was beginning to wonder if he had some sort of tic.

“I don’t have to tell you everything Gret. You didn’t get a note because you’re a fucking psychopath.”

“Doesn’t explain why I wouldn’t get a note.” muttered Chick.

“Old Man doesn’t like anyone thinking you’re related.” said Jem through a mouthful of sandwich.

“That’s disgusting.” said Aaron.

Barney asked what the note was. It turned out even family gatherings with his generation made him feel like the only sane man. Hansel reluctantly stopped glaring at Chick.

“Because he wants me and Gretel to teach you how to fight and duel. In the Room of Requirement. Even Heck. Sadly.”

Heck glared. It was a lot less powerful than Hansel and Chick’s glares. Hansel was already planning when to fit in the lessons around their actual Hogwarts classes.

“How did you get our timetables?” asked Jason.

“Not important. Here’s when we can have lessons.”

“Don’t you have homework? For your NEWTS?” asked Jem.

Hansel shrugged. “I’ll pass the ones I need to pass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to leave a review!!


	6. Halloween

** 31st October 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9 **

 

“Stay still,” warned Will, “or you won’t be able to go.”

Clint froze in place. He didn’t think Will would really stop him from going treat-or-tricking but he wasn’t taking any risks. Everyone was watching him but trying to pretend that they weren’t. Except Will and Uncle Alastor.

“Do you like my costume?”

Will nodded. “It’s fantastic. What is it?”

“Green Arrow! Do you like the hat?”

“Definitely.”

With that, they left the house. Barney had convinced the Old Man and Grampa Conall to let him stay in Uncle Alastor’s house with Will as a temporary guardian. Clint wasn’t supposed to know but he’d heard the yelling from downstairs. Uncle Alastor was still in the hospital, recovering.

“What’s Bobbi dressed as?”

“Wonder Woman. She’s Green Arrow’s friend and they kick ass together!”

Will looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. It was creepily similar to the look Barney got whenever Clint said a bad word, but without the smirk.

“I mean, they beat the bad guys.”

“That’s better.”

When they reached Bobbi’s, it had pumpkins and fake spiderwebs strung across the gate and up the path. It looked excellent, despite Will’s muttering. Clint headed up the path, dodging the pumpkin, and knocked.

“Look Will, there’s a bat in that pumpkin!”

“Oh yeah.”

Bobbi’s mom opened the door. Bobbi was right behind her in the Wonder Woman costume. They’d bought them together with Bobbi’s mom and Aunt Adrianna.

“Oh you look wonderful!” said Bobbi’s mom. “Bobbi, are you ready?”

“Yep.”

“Off you go.”

With that the three of them set off. Will wasn’t wearing a Halloween costume, despite Clint’s begging. He’d heard from Uncle Douglas that three Howlers had been sent by Jem and Hansel, also begging Will to wear a Halloween costume. One had gone off in a meeting with the department head.

“It’s trick or treat, remember.” said Bobbi. “Not treat or trick.”

Clint nodded. Bobbi was the only one carrying a basket, as Clint had a bow. They knocked on one door and an old lady answered.

“Trick or treat!”

The old lady laughed, complimented their costumes and gave them each a candy bar. A whole candy bar, not the tiny little ones Bobbi’s mom was handing out. One house told them to ‘fuck off, fucking brats!’. Will had stuck his hand in his pocket. Clint thought he might be grabbing his wand.

“Come on kids, let’s find a nicer house.”

One door was answered by a middle-aged lady.

“Trick or treat!”

“Let’s have a trick then.”

Clint paused, dumbfounded. He had no idea what to do for a trick. Will had banned him from using magic in front of Muggles. Bobbi stepped up though, palm upturned.

“I can do this!”

Blue flame danced above her palm. The lady clapped and gave them half her candy supply. Bobbi put the flames away, skipping away. Clint frowned up at Will.

“Was that magic?”

“Yeah I think so kid.” said Will, sounding very resigned.

Will caught up to Bobbi, leaving Clint to follow a few steps behind.

“Can you show me that again, later?”

Bobbi pulled a face. “Mum told me not to show anyone.”

“It’s OK, I can do tricks too.”

They were halfway down the street by this point, towards the house with the huge bushes. They were a nightmare to get a football out of and Clint had dozens of scratches after playing out. Bobbi was in front, telling Will about the other magic tricks she could do. A dark figure leaped out from behind the bush, roaring as he did. He had a mask on, hiding his face. Clint stumbled backwards, knocking into someone.   

“Will!”

Someone scooped him up and bounced him. That was when Clint started screaming.

“Will! It’s him! It’s Greyback! Will!!”

Will was already there, grabbing him off his attacker. Clint buried his head into Will’s neck. It was too late though, Bobbi had seen him crying. He was going to throw up.

“Clint, look. Clint, it’s OK. Look, they’re just teenagers. They’re no worse than Aaron.”

Clint turned his head reluctantly, still holding on tightly to Will. The one who’d jumped out wasn’t as big as he’d thought, only about the same size as Hansel and not as broad. And he was blond. Not Greyback. Greyback wasn’t here. The one who’d picked him up was holding the bow out, chewing his lip.

“Sorry kid. We didn’t mean to scare you that much.”

“Pussy.” muttered the other one.

Will put Clint down and whirled on the other one.

“Hey arsehole, maybe think before you pull some stupid stunt like this and ruin a kid’s night.”

The other one glared over. “Dude, don’t be a dick. We’re sorry kids. Here, to say sorry.”

He dropped two five pound notes in Bobbi’s basket, grabbed his friend by the arm and they took off. Will turned back to Clint. He crouched down so he was on Clint’s eye-level.

“Hey kid, deep breaths OK? He isn’t here. You’re safe. He’s far away.”

Clint nodded slowly. Then threw up all over Will’s shoes. He didn’t complain though, instead just grabbing their hands and walking them home. Bobbi didn’t complain either and she didn’t call Clint a baby for crying. Bobbi’s mum looked surprised when she opened the door.

“I didn’t expect you back so early.”

“Are you two going to divide the chocolate, or does Bobbi get it all?”

“Come on Clint,” said Bobbi, “you can have the Milky Way if you want.”

Clint sat at the table opposite her and tried not to listen to Will’s explanation. He caught parts of it, about being surprised and thinking his attackers had come back. Thankfully, Will did not tell her about the crying. Or vomiting. Or screaming.

“Here.” said Bobbi, passing him the other big candy bar.

“I’ve already got one.”

“Have another one. I don’t really like Twix.”

Clint looked up at her. She was biting her lip, not saying anything to him like everybody else. Tiptoeing around him as if he was going to start screaming again.

“Bet you think I’m a scaredy-cat.”

Bobbi shook her head. “I think you’re really brave. I’d be too scared to go outside.”

Clint leaned in. “Sometimes I am. I get tummy aches but my grandma doesn’t believe me so I have to go in anyway.”

“Well, if you get tummy aches in school, I’ll make that blue fire. But it has to be a secret. Mum said I can’t ever show anyone.”

Clint smiled. “If you don’t tell anyone I cried, I’ll show you another secret.”

Bobbi grinned. “OK.”

“Clint.” called Bobbi’s mom. “Would you still like to stay over tonight or do you want to go home?”

“Can I go home?”

Will ruffled his hair and scooped him up. The chocolate and money were put in a paper bag and they headed home.

*

When they reached Uncle Alastor’s house, Will put Clint down on the front step. His shoes were going to stink for a week.

“Stay there until I say ‘film’, OK?”

Clint nodded and sat down. Will did a quick sweep of the house, called to Clint and then locked the door. And double and triple locked it when he saw Clint watching with wide eyes. He’d stopped looking so pale though, so Will was counting it as a win. He’d never been in charge when Clint had panicked but he had woken him up from nightmares before.

“Do you want to make hot chocolate and watch a film?”

“Can we have burnt marshmallows?”

Will frowned. “I mean, we can make them unburned.”

“Barney says they’re supposed to be burned.”

Barney had also managed to set an egg on fire at one point. Will wasn’t entirely sure Barney should be allowed near a kitchen, ever.

“That’s because Barney can’t cook worth a damn. Er… worth a… OK, let’s pretend you didn’t hear the d-word and we can watch two films.”

Clint giggled and went to get the fluffy blanket. He reappeared silently in the kitchen, scaring the fuck out of Will when he turned round to get the marshmallows.

“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”

Will’s bed was really Barney’s bed since the older boy was at Hogwarts.

“Yeah sure. As long as you don’t hog all the blankets.”

“No promises.”

Once the hot chocolate was made, Will brought it into the living room.

“What film are we watching?”

“Robin Hood, please.”

Will got the video and pushed it into the video player. Then he wriggled under the blanket and let Clint sprawl all over him. He didn’t sing along to the songs though, proof that he still wasn’t feeling himself. His cousin fell asleep thirty minutes in, leaving Will to watch a film about an animated fox by himself while trying not to sing along to the songs. At 23. _The things I do for this family_.

When the film had finished, Will carried Clint up to bed and gently put him down in Will’s bed. Will didn’t get in, instead sitting in the incredibly uncomfortable desk chair Barney seemed to adore and started on his paperwork from the latest Dark wizard capture.

*

Barney was nervous when he turned up at the room on the seventh floor. Jem was with him. Hansel was leaning next to a tapestry of trolls doing ballet.

“There you are. Come on.”

A pair of doors materialised out of the wall. They were tall, stretching all the way up to the ceiling and solid-looking. Barney doubted even a Blasting Curse could get through them.

“What the f-?”

“Room of Requirement. Come and Go Room. That place we use to train.” said Hansel, opening one of them. “It gives us whatever training equipment we need.”

Barney and Jem followed him in and were greeted with a gym. It had weights in one corner, a sparring mat in another, punching bags, and other equipment Barney couldn’t even name.

“Get on the treadmills. We’re going to work on conditioning to start with, build up your strength and speed.”

“Wait,” said Jem, “I thought we were going to learn magical self-defence. Curses, hexes, jinxes. Not running fast.”

Hansel rolled his eyes. “Gretel can teach you that. I teach you how to kick ass without your wand. Any idea why you might want to do that?”

“No trace.” said Barney. “It doesn’t break the underage Trace, and Priori Incantatem won’t work.”

“Nice answer.”

“Why do we even have to do this?” asked Jem. “Just because Clint’s started doing martial arts-”

Barney turned his head. “Who’s doing what now?”

“Did Grandfather not tell you? Yeah, he got Clint started at archery and martial arts. My dad told me in a letter.”

“Son of a bitch.”

*

When they finally hobbled out of the Room of Requirement, Barney seriously thought he was going to throw up. Jem didn’t look much better.

“What’s the word for murdering your cousin?”

“Wind sprints?” suggested Barney.

Hansel was irritatingly cheerful as he strode past them.

“See you on Thursday boys.”

“We have a day off.” said Jem.

“I have Quidditch practice on Wednesdays.”

“Sucks to be you.”

Barney glared at him and stumbled down to the Slytherin showers. Gabriel and Akihiro were waiting for him in their dorm room.

“How did the super-secret training go?”

“I didn’t know someone could sweat so much.”

“Well, that’s disgusting.”

Barney collapsed face-first onto his bed, completely ignoring the rest of his questions. Talking was far more effort than necessary. Sleep was a much better idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, if you liked this could you leave a review or kudos? They really do make a difference!


	7. Underhill

** 20th December: Barney- 13, Clint: 9 **

 

Clint was woken up by someone shaking his knee. He looked out of the window blearily. Night had fallen by now and there were no street lights but he could just about make out hills of varying heights, covered in dark masses. Clint was going to assume they were trees.

“Where are we?”

“About five minutes out.” replied Barney.

Uncle Alastor was still too frail to Apparate long distances so the three of them had to drive four hundred miles. Clint had fallen asleep about an hour in.

“I thought we were gonna stop for gas.”

“We did.” said Uncle Alastor. “You slept the whole way through.”

“I propped you up in the café at the service station and drew a moustache and glasses on your face.” said Barney cheerfully. “You still didn’t wake up.”

“Barney!”

“What? It’s not like I drew a dick on your forehead.”

“Barney!”

“No seriously, Uncle Alastor wouldn’t let me.”

Clint pawed at his face, trying to find a difference. The car swung round a corner, headlights shining on a sign that read ‘Underhill’. They bounced down a dirt track that was more holes than dirt, before slowing to a stop. The headlights illuminated the front of a stone house. A hill loomed behind it.

“We’re here.”

Uncle Alastor got out of the car, followed by Barney. Clint would have followed but Barney shut the door and leaned on it. Clint banged on the window and scowled up at his brother. Barney grinned back.

“Let me out!”

“Barney!” called Uncle Alastor.

Barney probably rolled his eyes but he did move off the door. Clint scrambled out and straightened up. He swung his backpack onto his shoulder. Barney helped Uncle Alastor with the bags. They’d brought presents for the entire Moody family so there were several. Clint hopped onto the front step and reached up for the door knocker. It was carved in the shape of a ram’s head. He had to stand on his tiptoes to do it, but he did manage to bring the knocker crashing down twice.

“Do you think they heard?”

“I think they heard in America.” replied Barney as he arrived at the step. “Take a bag.”

Clint reluctantly took two bags. As Barney still had four and a suitcase, it seemed only right. The door opened and Gretel emerged, scowl firmly in place.

 “Are you trying to knock the bloody- oh you’re here! Come in, we’ve been waiting ages. Even Hansel’s here.”

The trio trooped in behind Gretel. The entrance room was dark, with one ball of light hanging from the ceiling. The coat rack was already filled with coats but somehow Clint found a spare hook for his hoodie.

“Is it enchanted?” asked Barney.

“Yeah.” said Gretel. “You can always find a hook on it.”

“Where’s the bathroom?” asked Clint. “They didn’t wake me up for the bathroom break. And is there pen on my face?”

Gretel laughed. “They’re monsters. No, there’s no pen. I’ll show you the bathroom.”

Clint followed Gretel, mouthing ‘monster’ at Barney over his shoulder. Barney stuck his tongue out in response. They went past a wooden staircase and Gretel pointed to a door.

“In there. When you’re done, turn left.”

When Clint re-emerged, Gretel had gone. He also couldn’t hear Barney or Uncle Alastor further to the right. So he turned left and headed down the corridor, passing another couple of doors before coming to one at the end of the hall. It was made of dark wood, like the rest of the furnishings, and was surprisingly heavy when Clint pushed it open. The room inside was larger than he’d expected, stretching back into the hill itself. There were a few windows towards where Clint was stood. There was a huge stone chimney breast in the centre of the back wall, with an alcove on either side. There were bookshelves lining one side of the room. Several sofas and chairs had been arranged around the chimney breast and fireplace. Krista was playing on the rug in front of the fireplace. Thankfully, somebody had put a grate up against.

“Hey kiddo!” called a voice from one alcove.

The alcoves were shadowier, the light from the candles and the fire not quite reaching them. Clint was beginning to miss electricity. Still, only one person called Clint ‘kiddo’.

“Will!”

His cousin got up from his chair and came over to hug him. Then the welcomes poured in. Grampa Conall and Grandma Carina hugged him, various uncles said hello and Aunt Miriam, who was a little terrifying, offered him some vodka. He declined. Jem waved over from where he was sat at a table with Chick and Heck before lost the arm wrestling match against Chick. Barney was sat with Aaron, leaning over to read something.

“Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint! You’re here! Hey Clint!”

Kenny was practically bouncing around him, like an overeager puppy. Albeit a twelve-year-old puppy that was almost as strong as Gretel.

“I’m here! When did you get here?”

“I don’t know. Come sit with me!”

“Why don’t you both come sit with me?” asked Will.

The pair of them trotted over to the left alcove. This one had a pair of armchairs and a small bookshelf somehow crammed into it. Kenny climbed into one chair with his book and Clint climbed onto Will’s knee. It was just because there wasn’t a third chair, not because he wanted to sit on Will’s knee. Babies like Krista sat on people’s knees because they wanted to.

“Did you get homework for over the holidays?” asked Will.

Clint nodded glumly. Holiday homework should have been made illegal years ago. Logically, he knew Hansel and Gretel had even more homework than him, since they were doing their NEWTs this year. But he still didn’t want homework.

*

Two hours or so later, Grandma Carina stood up.

“Bedtime, I think for you Clint. Krista went an hour ago.”

“But I haven’t had tea.” said Clint, scandalised. “And it’s only nine o’clock.”

“I’ll have Kinney bring you some sandwiches. And nine o’clock should be your bedtime. Now off you go.”

Barney looked up from whatever he and Jem were doing.

“I’m pretty tired, I’ll come up with you.”

Clint sighed and trundled after his brother and grandmother. They headed up the staircase, stairs squeaking with every step the brothers took. Grandma Carina swept up the stairs and turned left, leading them deeper into the hill. The corridors were lined with portraits of previous Moodys, each one with autumn leaves behind them.

“Who are these?” asked Barney as he stopped to look at one.

They all had plaques underneath them. One woman, who had the same hair and nose as Gretel, had one proclaiming her to be ‘Lily Moody, First of her Name’. She had a bow in her hands and a curved knife tucked into her belt.

“She’s cool.” decided Clint. “She’s using a longbow though. Grandma, did I tell you I brought my bow?”

“No dear, you didn’t. These are former heads of our House, Barney. They were rulers of this land centuries ago. Lady Lily built Underhill. It was much smaller then. Harder for Muggles to find.”

Clint looked at as many portraits as he could. Most of them looked a little like him, with the same dirty blond hair and blue-grey eyes. A few looked more like Heck and Gretel with black hair and brown eyes. There were none with ginger hair or light blue eyes like Barney though.

“This is your room.” said Grandma Carina. “And Barney, this is yours. Right across from each other. I’ll send sandwiches up.”

Clint went into his room. His suitcase had been unpacked, the clothes folded away neatly. The bow case however, lay untouched on the chest at the bottom of his bed. His double bed. Which was clearly far better than his single in Manchester. After a bit of rooting through the drawers and wardrobe, he found his favourite pyjamas. He pulled them on and hurried across to Barney’s room, wincing at the cold floor on his feet. He didn’t bother knocking on Barney’s door, meaning he got an eyeful of Barney’s lower half.

“Ew!”

“Dude!” yelped Barney. “Close the door!”

Clint turned, closed the door and screwed his eyes shut. After a few seconds of rustling, Barney tapped his shoulder.

“You can turn ‘round now. Seriously though, you gotta start knocking.”

“We never knock at home.”

“That’s ‘cos it’s only us and Uncle Alastor. Here there’s others.”

Clint hopped onto Barney’s bed, also a double, and looked around. It was almost the mirror of Clint’s room, except Clint’s room was a dark red and Barney’s was brown. They both had stone fireplaces though, which Clint already knew he wasn’t going to be allowed to use. Barney hopped onto the bed next to him.

“Whaddya think of Underhill?” he asked, sprawling out.

“It’s dark. I don’t like it.”

Barney laughed. He reached an arm over to Clint, slowly enough for him to notice, before hoicking him downwards. Clint shrieked as Barney started tickling him.

“Ass!”

A loud crack stopped them mid-wrestle. They untangled themselves and sat up. A small house-elf was stood in front of them, bearing a silver tray with sandwiches.

“Masters Barney and Clint?”

Her voice was thin but very clear. She put the sandwiches down on the bedside table and detailed which ones had which filling.

“Are you Kinney?” asked Barney.

“I am, Master Barney.”

“Thanks for the sandwiches.” said Clint. “Could you light my fire in my room? I’m not allowed. I’ll show you which room it is.”

Kinney giggled. “I know which room it is, Master Clint. I’ll have it done.”

“Thanks ma’am.” said Clint.

Kinney disappeared with another loud crack. Clint then climbed over Barney to get to the sandwiches. Barney grumbled about asking and let out a particularly loud ‘oof’ when Clint elbowed him in the stomach. Accidentally of course. Mostly. Sort of. It was entirely deliberate. They wolfed down the sandwiches.

“Night.” said Clint, hopping off the bed and heading to the door.

“Night kid. Hey, if you get cold you can come in here.”

Clint nodded. “Thanks Barney.”

Barney nodded. They both knew there was no chance Clint would get cold with a fire in his room. But neither of them ever really said the word ‘nightmares’ out loud. Clint didn’t really know why but that was what the family did.

*

** 21st December 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9 **

 

Clint padded downstairs fully dressed and hungry. Barney had already been gone when Clint woke up. He did bump into Chick though.

“Hey Chick. Do you know where I can get breakfast?”

Chick gave him a grin. It was a little too manic for Clint’s tastes.

“Come on, it’s this way.”

Chick led him off along the corridor. Clint was pretty sure this wasn’t the way to the ground floor, especially when they stopped at stairs that were going up.

“I thought the kitchen was on the first floor.”

“We’re on the first floor.”

“The ground floor.” corrected Clint. “Look, Chick, I think I’m just gonna go downstairs and have a look around. Or I might ask Kinney.”

Chick whirled on him then. “No, let’s go upstairs. That’s where breakfast is. Come on man, don’t you want to see the roof?”

“Clint!” someone shouted.

Clint turned to see Gretel hurrying down the corridor. She came to a stop in front of them.

“Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you where the kitchen and dining room are.”

Gretel grabbed Clint’s head and dragged him in the other direction. She pointed out her room, Uncle Alastor’s and Will’s. Chick’s was at the opposite end of the mansion, meaning he had to pass the Old Man’s room to get to it.

“Do me a favour, don’t be anywhere alone with Chick. Come on.”

Clint didn’t question the order, instead trotting along after her. The kitchen was through one of the doors he’d passed last night. It had a door leading to the outside of the house and large windows, allowing the morning sun to shine through.

“Hey kid.” said Barney from his seat at the kitchen table.

He had a pair of boots on that almost certainly didn’t belong to him and a hoodie that did. Jem was sat next to him, tugging a set of wellies on. Clint grinned over as Grandma Carina began cooking him a full breakfast. Hansel was there, cleaning a shotgun. Krista was sat next to Grandma Carina.

“Hey kiddo. You gonna watch me train your brother later?”

Barney and Jem groaned at the same time.

“Come on Hansel, it’s _Christmas_.” said Jem. “You’re the worst.”

“You’ll thank me when you beat the crap out of Mulciber. Clint, get some boots on. Will’s giving you a guided tour of the estate.”

Will himself appeared a few minutes later, while Clint was midway through his breakfast.

“It’s terrifying how fast you eat.” said Will cheerfully.

Clint gave him a broad grin, mouth still full. Will asked after everyone else’s whereabouts. Jason and Kenny had gone to the nearby village for supplies with Uncle Kenneth and Max. Aaron was still asleep. Uncle Douglas had gone out the night before and still wasn’t back. Adrianna and Max were coming around the estate with them, and William, Will’s father and possibly the least imaginative of the entire family, was still down in London working. Miriam was drinking in her room, Heck was being creepy somewhere.

When Clint had finished his breakfast, he found a pair of boots that fit him and followed the older cousins out. In the daylight, it was much more obvious that the house continued into the hill itself. It was also much more obvious that Underhill was in a valley. Clint could see the lake had frozen over. Will, Hansel and Gretel took him, Barney, and Jem over to a white-washed barn nearby. Gretel

“Here we go. Jem, go with Gretel.” ordered Will. “Hans, take Barney. Clint, you’re with me.”

“For what?” asked Barney.

Gretel answered by dragging the barn door open. Inside was a collection of brooms, including Barney’s prized Silver Arrow and Jem’s less prized Moontrimmer. There was even a broom sized for nine-year-olds, which Clint eagerly hopped on. The grounds were even bigger than Clint had expected, though it was a little difficult to see some of it since Will insisted on flying right next to him. Barney, usually slightly overprotective, was convincing Hansel to race him.

“Come on. Just to the treeline and back. Loser pays the other a Galleon.”

“Done.” said Hansel.

“Do either of you even have a Galleon?” asked Will.

Hansel and Barney were already racing away. Will didn’t bother waiting for them. Instead, he led Clint away from the lake and back near the house. There was a collection of white-washed buildings nestled on the other side of the hill that had the house built into it. The village was to the east, five miles away Uncle Max said. And then there was the barn itself and a small flat field that had Quidditch hoops on it.

“That’s where they used to keep animals, but the Old Man sold them when he inherited.”

Clint frowned. “I wouldn’t have sold them.”

“Well, there’s wild ones. There’s a centaur herd about ten miles west of here but we don’t really interact with them. And there’s the deer and the non-magical creatures.”

“Can we try and find the deer?”

Will laughed. “Yeah. Maybe not on a broom though. Oh, they’re coming back.”

Clint turned to see Barney nudging ever so slightly ahead of Hansel. The two of them appeared to be bearing down on Will and Clint, instead of Gretel and Jem. Barney managed to reach them first, braking so hard, he almost fell off.

“Victory!” he laughed, lifting both his hands in the air.

Hansel scowled at him. “Fine, fine. I’ll pay you after Christmas.”

“Why?!”

“He doesn’t have any money.” said Gretel.

“What happened to the money the Old Man gave you on your seventeenth?”

“Spent it.”

Will looked like he was about to fall off his broom.

“Hansel, he gave you five hundred Galleons. How the fuck did you spend it all?”

“See the bike I got?”

“The Old Man’s going to kill you.” said Jem, eyes widening.

Barney held his hand up. “You got a grand when you turned seventeen?”

“It’s the Old Man’s tradition. You get five hundred when you turn seventeen. It’s about two and half grand in English Muggle money.”

Barney’s eyes had widened now. Clint could practically see him planning what he would buy. As for Clint, he’d probably buy a hawk. Or a dog. The rest of the tour was over pretty soon, since the fields had been left empty since the Old Man had inherited. There was a gym in one of the buildings but Hansel promised Barney and Jem they’d get to see it later. Both of them groaned.

“Hey, can we play Quidditch down there?” asked Barney.

Clint was more interested in setting up an archery range in one of the empty buildings but he could ask the Old Man over lunch. They headed over to the Quidditch pitch, which was so small it only had one hoop on each side. Hansel peeled off from the rest of the group, returning five minutes later with Jason, Aaron as well as a box with the balls in and Uncle Max to act as referee. Gretel and Hansel were made team captains. Hansel picked Barney, Aaron and Jem. Gretel picked Will and Jason and was stuck with Clint.

“So, no Seekers?” said Gretel. “Just a Keeper, two Chasers and a Beater?”

“Remember, we’re only playing until one.” said Uncle Max. “Aunt Carina wants us back for lunch then.”

There was a chorus of agreement before they started trying to divide the teams. Hansel refused to allow Jem or Aaron to play as Beater claiming that as he was on the Hufflepuff team as a Beater he was better, leaving them to argue over Keeper and second Chaser. In the end, they had to flip a coin. Aaron ended up as Keeper and Jem as second Chaser. There hadn’t been any question about what position Barney would play. Gretel was also a Chaser on the Hufflepuff team. Will had played Seeker but volunteered to play Chaser. Jason wanted to be Keeper.

“That means the baby has to be the Beater though.” said Jason.

He was only two years older than Clint but those two years made a difference when one of you was at Hogwarts. Clint scowled at him. Barney threw him a bat from the box.

“Batter up, kid.”

Clint snatched the bat out of the air and went over to his small broom. They weren’t using real Quidditch balls, instead using a rugby ball for a Quaffle and a football for a Bludger, both enchanted to act exactly like their magical counterparts. When Clint asked why, he was told it was easier to explain the Bludger landing in someone’s hedge if it was a football.

“Ready?” said Uncle Max. “Go!”

He launched the rugby ball into the air. Jem got the Quaffle/rugby ball first and hared off towards the goal. Jason caught it, sending it over to Will. Hansel smacked the Bludger/football into Jason’s stomach. Clint managed to get over to it though and hit it as hard away as far as he could. Will passed the ball to Gretel and she threw it through the hoop.

“One point to Gretel.” called Uncle Max.

Clint whooped. Then Barney got the Quaffle. He avoided Gretel and Will with equal ease and completely ignored Jem’s calls to ‘Pass it for fuck’s sake!’. He threw the Quaffle into the air and then smacked it into the hoop like it was a valleyball or whatever they were called.

“Fucker!” shouted Hansel. “I call dibs on him forever!”

Barney laughed. Clint narrowed his eyes. At first he had to focus on just getting the Bludger away from his teammates. He wasn’t great, meaning Jason got hit an awful lot. Gretel got hit twice but she was much better at avoiding the Bludger. After an hour or so of playing though, Clint was managing to aim the Bludger at the other team. Most of the time, especially when it was Barney or Hansel, they avoided the hit but he was still getting better. Hansel’s team had worked out that while Barney was rubbish at getting the ball off the other players, he was brilliant once he had it. Clint managed to deflect the Bludger away from Jason and then, as it careened towards him, smacked at his brother with all his might. He had hoped to hit Barney in the stomach or chest. He got him in the face. Barney dropped the Quaffle, understandably so, and clapped a hand to his nose.

“Time out!” shouted Uncle Max. “Barney, are you alright?”

Barney took his hand away from his nose. It was bleeding _very_ heavily and one eye was starting to swell shut. Clint didn’t know if he should feel proud or ashamed. Barney gave him a bloody smile.

“That was an awesome hit.”

“The baby did that?!” said Hansel in disbelief. “Fuck that, I call dibs on both Barton boys forever.”

Gretel smacked the back of his head and Stunned the Bludger. They guided Barney down to the ground. Uncle Max fixed his nose and eye, before checking his watch.

“Well, it’s half-twelve now so pack up. Don’t groan at me, Hans. You’ve been playing for two hours and by the time we all get back up in the air, it’ll be one o’clock. Let’s go.”

Hansel ruffled Barney and Clint’s hair as they packed up.

“They should call you Trickshot,” he said to Barney, “for some of those stunts. You’re alright, for a thirteen-year-old.”

“What he means,” interjected Gretel, “is that you’re amazing. And every time you aren’t playing against him, he’ll be cheering madly for you. Probably chanting ‘Trickshot’.”

Barney blushed, his face matching his hair. Clint would have pointed it out but he didn’t fancy being tickled. As they trudged across the yard from the barn to the kitchen, Will bumped Clint’s shoulder.

“You fly pretty well too. Must be a Barton boy thing.”

Clint bit his lip to stop a stupidly big grin breaking out. Barney grinned over his shoulder at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! As always, feel free to leave a review!


	8. Christmas

** 24th December 1973: Barney- 13, Clint-9 **

 

Clint took a deep breath as he drew his bowstring back. He was in one of the former barns, that he had converted into an archery range with Will, Hansel, and Barney. He was currently being supervised by Gretel who had an insanely cool crossbow.

“Lift your elbow, you’ll get more power.”

“Like this?”

“That’s it.”

Clint let the arrow fly and lowered his bow. He had hit the target, but landed on the blue ring.

“Dammit! I got a bullseye twice back home.”

“Beginner’s luck?” suggested Gretel. Upon seeing Clint’s face, she sighed and came over. “Don’t lower your bow until you hear the arrow connect to the target. Here, stand like this. No, back straighter. Yeah, exactly. Feet level. OK, when you release, only move your fingers. Move when I tell you to.”

Clint did as he was told. The arrow thunked into the target and when he was allowed to lower his bow, he could see it in the red. Not quite a bullseye, but still an improvement.

“Nice one. Want to go see how your brother’s getting on?”

“Definitely.”

Clint packed up his bow carefully and pulled his arrows out of the target. They headed out. A bird called somewhere high above. Clint could just about pick out its silhouette against the sun.

“What’s that?”

“An Irish phoenix. People used to think they only cried when someone was about to die. But apparently it’s before a storm.”

“What’s it doing in Scotland if it’s Irish?”

Gretel laughed. “Sometimes they come over here. That one’s been flying around Underhill since I was a kid. Mind the black ice.”

Most of the snow and ice between the four barns had been melted, either by spells or feet, leaving slush and the occasional patch of ice that had been smoothed by multiple feet and was now twice as slippery. Clint picked his way around it, trying not to be too jealous of the way Gretel flicked her wand and the snow and ice in front of her disappeared. He wanted a wand desperately but he had a bow, and that was just as cool. Even Jem said so.

From the outside, the training barn and Clint’s archery range looked identical. Both were whitewashed stone, with heavy oak doors. Inside however, they were completely different. Clint had three targets set up and nothing else. Except a tractor that nobody had ever moved. The training barn had a sparring ring, punching bags, and weights set up. Hansel was currently throwing Jem around the sparring ring while Barney worked on the weights. He didn’t stop when he saw Clint, but did manage a brief grin.

“Why is no-one spotting Barney?” asked Gretel.

Hansel looked over, effortlessly blocking a wild kick from Jem.

“He’s fine. Look see, he’s using the right weight set.”

Barney grunted. Clint assumed that was the extent of his conversation skills at the moment. Hansel turned his attention back to Jem. He’d closed in and was aiming a jab for Hansel’s stomach. Hansel caught his wrist and twisted it. Jem ended up kneeling on the floor, swearing up a storm.

“Hey.” scolded Hansel. “Clint’s here. Be nice.”

“Whatever.” replied Jem. “Let me go.”

“Forfeit.”

“Fuck off.”

“Nope.”

Clint ignored them and made his way over to Barney. He’d moved on from the weights and was now doing push-ups.

“It’s Christmas Eve.” he muttered when Clint sat down. “You’d think he’d be nicer.”

“He’s never nice.” replied Clint, equally quietly.

Barney let out a breathless laugh before rolling over and starting on sit-ups. Jem reluctantly forfeited the match and clambered out of the ring to stretch.

“Barney, start your cooldown stretches.” ordered Hansel.

Barney scrambled to his feet and began stretching. Clint was glad he wasn’t ten yet. The Old Man had said he had to start training when he was ten. Which was only in a few weeks. But Will was going to train him, so that balanced it out. When the cooldown stretches were finished, they headed back to the house. Much to Clint’s annoyance, he wasn’t allowed to fly now that snowstorms were an ever-present risk even though Barney was. Yes, Barney was three and a half years older and yes, he was a better flier, and yes, he only ever flew with an adult, but dammit that was not the point! They clomped into the kitchen, getting snow everywhere. Kinney was at the sink, washing dishes.

“Hey Kinney.” said Barney.

Clint blew on his hands to warm them up. It wasn’t very effective. They split up once inside the house, Gretel going to study, Jem and Barney to play pool in the games room they’d discovered, Clint going to watch and Hansel going to do whatever it was Hansel did when he wasn’t training. It definitely wasn’t studying.

*

** 25th December 1973: Barney- 13, Clint- 9 **

Barney woke up to a nine-year-old landing on his stomach.

“Come on! Come on! Let’s go!”

Barney groaned as he pushed Clint off him.

“Can you at least get dressed fir- oh you are dressed. Can you wait five seconds and let me get dressed?”

Clint sighed. “Fiiiiiiiiine.”

Clint’s idea of letting Barney get dressed involved throwing clothes at him, urging him to hurry up. Unsurprisingly, this did not help in the slightest. Barney finally finished dressing and then followed Clint out of his room. His younger brother was bouncing up and down, even as they went down the stairs which seemed like an accident waiting to happen. When they got to the living room, Barney laughed. The night before, it had been the same dark room it had been when they arrived, albeit with a ridiculously large pine tree that Uncle Douglas, Uncle Alastor, and Uncle Max had cut down. Now it had fairy lights strung along it, tinsel draped over every available surface and the presents took up half the room.

“Pretty!” exclaimed Krista as she charged in.

“Kris, wait!” said Uncle Douglas, scooping her up.

Jem was right behind his father and sister, eyes wide. The room was beginning to fill up. Clint took a seat as close to the presents as he could manage. Barney sprawled in one of the armchairs, Jem perching on it. Uncle Max and Adrianna drifted in a few minutes later, tailed by Jason. Since Jason’s dad had died years ago, he lived with Max, Adrianna and the twins. Barney was just glad he’d had a few days away from Hansel’s training in Manchester.

“Presents!” exclaimed Kenny, dragging Aaron in by the wrist.

Aaron managed to free himself from his twin and slunk into an armchair near Barney.

“He’s been driving me mad.”

“Clint tried to help me dress to get down quicker.”

Jem laughed. “See, Krista just hassles Dad. I don’t have to do anything.”

“Go fuck yourself.” replied Aaron.

Every adult in the room called, “Language!”

Uncle Alastor came down, with his mad eye. It still unnerved Barney sometimes to look at. And to know that Uncle Alastor could now literally see out of the back of his head. The Old Man was the last to arrive, an hour after everybody else. Clint and Kenny had taken it upon themselves to arrange the presents into separate piles for everybody. The Old Man lowered himself into the armchair Jason hastily vacated.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s open some presents!”

Clint, Kenny, and Krista let out an ungodly cheer and began to pass the presents to their intended recipients. There were a few confusing moments, given that technically there were two Williams and two Kenneths, even though two used Kenny and Will. Clint took over that side for Kenny.

“Hey Uncle William, this one’s for you!”

“This is my handwriting.”

“Why in the name of Merlin would you put ‘To William, love Dad’? It’s like you want to confuse us.” said Clint, sounding beyond exasperated.

Barney received his presents and started opening them. Most of them were normal, Honeydukes sweets and money from the older family members, a miniature replica of a Silver Arrow from Uncle Alastor, a pack of Frog Spawn Soap from Jem, a book on the history of execution from Heck, etc. Clint presented his present almost shyly. As shy was not an emotion Barney knew Clint could feel, he was instantly curious. When he opened the packaging, it was a silver chain with a silver ram’s head dangling from the end.

“I love it, kid. Thank you.”

Clint tried to seem unbothered but the effect was spoiled by the huge grin. Barney slipped it over his head, grinning down at it. It even had green eyes.

“Green for Slytherin.” said Clint, still grinning.

Then Barney opened Chick’s present. It was a knife, with a blade that curved upwards and an emerald in the hilt.

“Thanks.” said Barney, unsure what to do with it.

“Tell me you didn’t give a thirteen-year-old a sharp knife.” said Uncle Kenneth.

“No, it’s real.” said Chick. “It’s from my collection.”

Well, Barney was never going to the Prigusivac house ever. Miriam waved her hands.

“He’s so thoughtful, giving from his own things.”

Barney met Clint’s wide-eyed stare. He returned it with one of his own. Jem whispered ‘what the fuck’ quite clearly but the adults were too busy being unnerved by Chick to notice. Clint moved to open his own presents. He was just as pleased with his haul, including the Dungbombs Jem had gotten him, the book on birds of prey from Will, the lighter in the shape of a gun from Chick, and the book on jinxes and hexes from Uncle Alastor. Barney had bought him a stuffed hawk from one of the Muggle shops in London, Ham-something or other.

“Thanks!” said Clint, flinging himself at Barney for a hug.

Barney returned it, ruffling his hair. After the presents were opened, thankfully with only two more weapons being given as gifts and those to adults, they trailed into the dining room. The table was almost groaning under the weight of the food Kinney had prepared. Barney grabbed a seat in the middle of the table, Jem sitting on one side and Clint on the other. Will sat opposite Clint and Uncle Alastor opposite Barney. For a brief time, silence descended on Underhill as everyone began to eat.

*

Barney groaned as he lowered himself onto the sofa. He’d eaten far too much already but then Jem had dared him to see how many mince pies he could fit in his mouth. Clint had bet on three and Will on five so obviously Barney had had to prove them wrong and fit seven in. His jaw still hurt. Jem was resting his head on Barney’s stomach, his legs hanging over the arm. Clint was sprawled across Will and Uncle Alastor.

“My stomach.” mumbled Barney.

Jem grunted. Grandma Carina was wandering around, holding a plate of mince pies.

“If she brings that over here, I may throw up.” said Jem.

“If you do, aim at Clint. Little fucker said I could only fit three.”

“I know there’s some kind of joke there. I just need Hansel to help me out.”

“I think Hansel’s getting drunk in the village.”

After dinner, Hansel, Gretel, Uncle Douglas, and Aunt Miriam had headed off to the village. Since it was three-quarters of a mile away, Barney had concerns about how they would be getting home. And he was fairly sure the legal drinking age for Muggles was eighteen in Scotland. Will and Clint had found the bird of prey book and were now going through it together.

“Lucky Hansel.”

“He’s with Aunt Miriam.” Barney pointed out.

Jem waved a hand in a lazy gesture that could mean either ‘you have an excellent point’ or ‘I don’t care, I just want out of the house’. Barney was choosing to take it as the former. They stayed where they were for most of the night, moving only to go to the bathroom or to make forays into the kitchen. Kinney had given up trying to stop them getting the leftovers.

“Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint, Clint.” said Jem.

“What?!”

“Go get me a turkey sandwich.”

“Stick it up your arse.”

Barney let out a burst of laughter, as did Uncle Alastor. Jem looked mildly stunned, as if someone had hit him with a frying pan. Will appeared to be trying to look offended but was failing miserably.

“Clinton! Where are you learning that sort of language?!”

Grandma Carina was less impressed. Clint shrugged.

“Bobbi’s older brother or Hansel. I forgot which.”

“And who is this Bobby? He doesn’t seem like a good influence.”

Will grinned. “It’s OK Aunt Carina. He’d have learned it from Hansel anyway.”

Uncle Alastor laughed. “Leave it Mother. Bobbi’s a good girl.”

Clint was eventually bribed into getting Jem and Barney a sandwich. Kenny followed him so Aaron put an order in. As did Jason.

“We have a house-elf!” exclaimed Clint. “Ask Kinney!”

“S’more fun to ask you.” drawled Jem.

Clint scowled at him before stomping into the kitchen with all the indignation a nine-year-old could muster. Kenny mimicked him perfectly. Barney had almost forgotten the exchange and settled back into dozing in front of the fire when he got smacked in the face with cold turkey.

“Hey!”

Jem complained as Barney’s jerk upwards dislodged his head. Clint and Kenny were wearing identical grins as they pelted various cousins with cold food.

“I didn’t do anything!” protested Uncle Alastor as a Brussel sprout smacked into the side of his head.

Barney shoved Jem off him and ran towards Clint and Kenny. Kenny squealed and shot off. Clint was made of sturdier stuff however and lobbed stuffing at his older brother. Then he ran off. By this point, everyone under the age of 25 was joining in, even Will. Uncle Alastor had levered himself off the sofa to hunt down Kenny and Clint. After an hour of charging round the house, asking Kinney for ammunition when necessary, Barney managed to tackle Clint to the ground. Jason had grabbed Kenny. Aaron then shoved Jason over.

“Run Kenny, run!”

So Kenny took off. Clint elbowed Barney in the ribs and followed. Aaron joined in and they crashed off.

“Traitor!” shouted Jem, laughing.

“Gotta stick with your twin!” replied Aaron, voice drifting down the corridor.

Something warm and heavy landed on Barney. Barney crashed to the ground and rolled over to find Clint had waited above one of the doors and allowed himself to fall.

“Ass!”

Their fun was cut short when the Old Man saw the mess.

“WHAT IN MERLIN’S NAME HAPPENED HERE?!?”

And that was how Barney, Jem, Aaron, Jason, Clint, and Will spent the last few hours of Christmas cleaning the living room. Uncle Alastor was exempt because he was known as a sensible adult so when he told the Old Man he hadn’t been a perpetrator, merely a victim, the Old Man had believed him completely. Kenny was exempt because he did anything Clint or Aaron suggested. While they weren’t the worst role models to have, Barney figured there were probably better ones. Will was scolded and told ‘I expected better from you’ which didn’t seem to have much of an effect on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to leave a review!


	9. Clint's Birthday

** 9th January 1974: Barney- 13, Clint- 10 **

 

Clint didn’t want to go to school. Alastor was aware of this because Clint had spent the entirety of breakfast complaining. Highlights had included ‘It’s my birthday for Merlin’s sake’, ‘we won’t even learn anything today, it’s only the second day back’, and the best one ‘Mom didn’t make me go to school on my birthday’. This was because Barney and Clint had been homeschooled. Alastor hadn’t bothered pointing this out, instead patiently nodding along. When Clint had cleared his plate, Alastor had told him to get his uniform on.

“This isn’t fair. It’s my birthday.”

“I’ve heard.” replied Alastor.

Clint’s scowl managed to deepen on the fifteen-minute walk to school. They took the long way around now, avoiding the road by the park. By the time they’d gotten to the school grounds, Clint’s glare was foul enough to rival a Basilisk. As they entered the playground, a small blonde child launched herself at Clint at full speed, hugging him enthusiastically.

“Clint! Happy birthday! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks!” replied Clint, all traces of his scowl vanished.

Susan, Bobbi’s mother, came over, smiling.

“We decided to give you your present at the meal, Clint.”

“You didn’t have to get me a present, Mrs Morse but thanks.”

Susan smiled as the school bell rang and Clint and Bobbi charged away. All of Clint’s presents were to be opened at the meal later. Alastor may not have been a Seer, but he knew the outcome of Clint opening presents right before having to leave them.

“Let me check I’ve got this right. After school, you’re taking those two back to yours to get changed. And then Will’s picking me up and we’re going to this Roadhouse?”

Alastor nodded. “A few other family members should be there. Cousins of mine, my younger brother Douglas and his daughter, my father and uncle, my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather?” asked Susan.

The playground was probably not the best place to tell her that wizards aged slower than Muggles, often living twice as long. Instead, Alastor settled for:

“He’s ninety. Tell him he looks younger and you’ll be his favourite person.”

Susan laughed and Alastor smiled. She knew about magic, an incident involving levitating bins, Bobbi, schoolyard bullies, and an incredibly clumsy explanation from Clint had seen to that. That was when the Improper Use of Magic Office had gotten themselves involved. Alastor had convinced the Old Man to pull a few strings and let Alastor explain the magical world to them. Bobbi had clear signs of magic, after all, so they would have had to go through the explanation in a year anyway.

“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing this Roadhouse. I’m not sure how we’re getting there though.”

“Apparition. Will will explain.”

Will was adored by Bobbi and Susan alike though Alastor suspected it was for very different reasons.

*

Bobbi was in awe of Clint’s house. It was the first time she’d ever been allowed inside and now she understood why. There were fridge magnets that moved by themselves, a dark mirror with shadowy figures that Clint scowled at, a torch-looking thing that Clint said knew when you were lying, and a host of other things.

“Come on, I’ll show you my room. Uncle, where did you put Bobbi’s clothes?”

“Your room.” replied Alastor, busy with the security alarm.

Clint led the way up the stairs. Bobbi paused, staring at the moving photos. There were a couple of a teenaged Alastor with both his eyes, with two younger boys and a girl.

“That’s my Uncles Jaime and Douglas. And that’s my mom. I think Uncle Alastor was fifteen when they took that.”

All four of them were on grass with a large tree in the background. Uncle Alastor and the second oldest boy, Jaime, were messing each other’s hair up. Clint really did look like his mum. Bobbi dragged her gaze away from the laughing siblings and followed Clint up to his room. It was a small room, smaller than Bobbi’s, with a guitar leaning against the wall. There was a Green Arrow poster plastered to the wall and a few moving photos of Clint with Will, or Barney, or Alastor. There was a damaged one in a frame, of a younger lady wearing a white dress and beaming up at a man. The man’s face had been burned off.

“Who’s she?”

“My mom. On her wedding day.”

“Can’t you fix it? Isn’t there a spell?”

Clint scowled. “I don’t want to fix it.”

Bobbi decided to drop that topic quickly. Clint never mentioned his dad. Bobbi thought maybe he was dead. She knew Clint’s mum was. The bed was made and Bobbi’s clothes were on top of it. A case was resting across the chest at the foot of Clint’s bed.

“That’s my bow. Do you want to see it?”

Bobbi did. The bow was black and curved at the end. Clint called it a recurve bow.

“Next time you’re over, I’ll show you how to use it. I’ll let you get changed.”

Clint ducked out. Bobbi changed quickly, practically dancing as she bundled her school uniform up. Her mum would tell her off for crumpling the jumper but she didn’t really care. When she was done, she waited for Clint to get changed. He came out wearing a black hoodie, jeans, and a purple T-shirt. To be fair, that was what Clint wore whenever he didn’t have to wear his school uniform. Oh, and the Green Arrow costume for Halloween and fancy-dress parties.

“We’re ready.” bellowed Clint as he thumped down the stairs.

Bobbi was quieter as she followed. They waited in the living room while Alastor found his wallet and changed. There were more photos above the fireplace, of Clint’s mom on her wedding day with a man who looked like Alastor. There was a baby picture of Barney, still with the bright red hair, and a few other baby photos.

“That’s Jason. He’s Uncle Jaime’s son but he lives with my grandma and granddad now.”

“What happened to your Uncle Jaime?” asked Bobbi curiously.

“He died.” replied Clint. “The guys who attacked us got him.”

“Oh.”

There was a photo of Jaime when he was younger, leaning against Alastor. There was a photo of Barney, three boys, and a girl. They were laughing wildly and one boy, the one that looked like Clint, was trying to get a piggyback off Barney.

“That’s Barney’s friends at Hogwarts. That’s Jem, my cousin. He’s Uncle Douglas’ oldest. Krista’s his little sister. That one’s Akihiro, that’s Karla, and that’s Gabriel.”

“Do I have to remember all this?”

“Nah.” replied Clint. “Will remembers it for me. He can remember for you too.”

“That’s nice.”

Alastor reappeared. He explained Apparating to her, held her hand and Clint’s and then they were gone. It was the most horrible feeling Bobbi had ever, like she was being squeezed through a tube. When she landed, she staggered and tried very hard not to be sick. Clint was taking a few deep breaths.

“I hate it too. Barney vomits every time. It’s hilarious.”

“Clint.” said Alastor.

“Well it is.”

“I’m glad you find your brother’s suffering so entertaining.”

“Uncle Douglas says you laughed ‘til you cried when Uncle Jaime vomited over himself in front of a girl he liked.”

Alastor paused, as if considering. Then he shrugged.

“Wait until Barney does something stupid in front of a girl he likes.” said Alastor.

Clint grinned. “Barney does plenty of stupid things.”

Bobbi turned to look at their surroundings. The Roadhouse was by a busy roundabout but there were very few cars pulling into the car park. There were very few cars in the car park, full stop. It looked like an American-style diner with ‘Harvelle’s Roadhouse’ written above the door in bright lights.

“Come on.”

Alastor led the way across the car park, Bobbi and Clint close behind. The walls were lined with booths and there were normal tables further in. There was a snooker table in the right-hand corner and a bar taking up the back wall.

“That’s our table.” said Alastor, nodding to one of the booths.

There were a couple of people already sat in the booth. There were two women, one older lady with grey hair, one elegant woman about Alastor’s age, and four men of varying ages. One was very old, another was grandfather-aged and two were around Alastor’s age. Bobbi recognised the youngest as Clint’s Uncle Douglas from the photos.

“They brought Krista?” asked Clint, looking at a small girl.

“Yes, they brought Krista. Your Uncle Douglas couldn’t leave her at home by herself.”

“Bet he would.” muttered Clint before saying, slightly louder, “Krista’s Jem’s sister.”

Krista was small and dark-haired, unlike Clint. One of the younger men and waved. Bobbi followed Clint as he was embraced by the various relatives.

“Introduce us to your friend.” rumbled the oldest man.

“This is Bobbi, she’s the best. Her mom’s coming down too, with Will. This is Aunt Adrianna and Uncle Max, they’re Hansel and Gretel’s parents, and this is Uncle Douglas, he’s Jem and Krista’s dad, that’s Krista but she’s a baby. And you know my grandma and granddad. And that’s the Old Man. My great-grandfather.”

“Call me Mr Moody.” said the Old Man.

“But that’s what she calls Grampa.”

“Call me Conall.” said Clint’s granddad, winking at her.

Bobbi grinned. They rearranged themselves in the booth so Clint was in the middle, Max on his left and Bobbi on his right, leaving room for Will and Bobbi’s mum. A few minutes later, Will arrived with Susan. Susan gave a brightly wrapped parcel to Clint who thanked her again. Will dropped into the seat next to Bobbi, reaching across her to ruffle Clint’s hair. Clint batted him away easily.

“Happy birthday bird boy.” said Will, giving him another present.

“Thanks Will!”

A blonde lady came over, carrying a stack of menus. She passed them around, introduced herself as Ellen, and told them that if they needed anything, to give her a shout.

“How is the new apartment?” asked the Old Man.

“Blew up.” replied Will glumly. “Turns out my neighbour was trying to hatch Ashwinders.”

“Where are you living now?” asked Adrianna.

“Staying at Ethan’s. Hunt’s. My boss.”

Alastor snorted. “Stay at ours. The house is up for sale anyway.”

“It’s what now?” said Clint from behind the menu. “And can I have a burger?”

“Yes. We’ve talked about this Clint. Yesterday in fact. When I said we wouldn’t move far so you could still go to school with Bobbi.”

“Good.”

Douglas called Ellen over for them to order. Once that was done, the conversation split again. Will was telling the Old Man, Conall and Alastor about his work, Douglas was focussed on stopping Krista from running off, and Adrianna and Max were asking Clint and Bobbi about their schoolwork.

“I like maths.” said Bobbi. “But Clint says Hogwarts is really different.”

Adrianna and Max both widened their eyes at the same time, giving Clint cautious looks. Clint looked momentarily embarrassed.

“Well, Uncle Alastor told me I could tell her. Bobbi’s magic too.”

Their faces cleared and Adrianna leaned forwards.

“What magic have you done?”

Bobbi held her hand out and concentrated as hard as she could. Blue flames sprang to life in her palm, warm but not too hot.

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” said Adrianna. “That’s Cold Fire. You can keep them in a jar, you know. Very useful when it gets cold.”

Bobbi stared down at the flames. It didn’t seem quite possible but then again, this was _magic_. Anything could happen with magic. Max began telling her about Hogwarts. Adrianna had gone to a different magic school, one in Scandinavia called Durmstrang. Bobbi and Clint leaned forward to listen to Max, eyes going wide. The burgers arrived and they began to eat.

“These are the best burgers ever.” said Bobbi.

Will laughed. “I think we need the American’s vote on that. What do you think Clint?”

Clint swallowed his mouthful of burger.

“It’s amazing.”

“Good shout?”

“Good shout.” confirmed Clint around another mouthful of burger.

When they’d all finished eating, Ellen came out, carrying a birthday cake with candles. Bobbi gleefully joined in singing ‘Happy Birthday’ as Clint turned red. The cake itself had a bright orange bird on it. Adrianna called it a phoenix. The phoenix actually flew as well, from the cake to the candles. It didn’t even melt in the candles, just caught fire and continued to fly.

“Remind me to put that out before it burns the Roadhouse down.” said Ellen.

“Whoa.” said Bobbi.

“Make a wish.” ordered Krista.

Clint closed his eyes as he blew the ten candles out. Krista led a round of applause. Clint opened his presents then, while they were eating cake. He laughed delightedly at the Manchester City scarf Bobbi had gotten him. Bobbi then had to explain football to the Old Man and how Manchester City was the best team ever. While she was explaining this, Clint opened the present from Will. It was another hoodie. Clint did not need another hoodie in Bobbi’s opinion but at least it wasn’t black or grey. It was a nice blue, the same as Alastor’s mad eye.

“Thanks Will!”

When they’d finished the cake, the entire group left the restaurant. Alastor was telling Adrianna about a viewing he and Clint had in a week for a new house. The Old Man was questioning Will about the ‘incident’ at his flat.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Grandfather. The flat’s gone. And so’s most of my stuff. I lost my favourite suit.”

“It’d be cool if Will moved in with us.” said Clint. “You could come round to mine instead of me having to come round to yours all the time.”

Bobbi smiled over at him. “That would be pretty cool.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope you guys are enjoying this! Don't forget to review! :D


	10. Babysitting

** 31st June 1974: Barney- 13, Clint- 10 **

 

Barney was in hell. He had to be. Uncle Alastor had made him babysit. Manchester’s magical side was nowhere near as big as London’s so Barney had had to improvise. Which amounted to ‘take the kids to the park and buy them ice-cream’. The plan had been updated to include ‘stop Clint from angering a goose and stop Bobbi going for a swim in the boating lake’. And then Will had arrived and bribed him to babysit a small Russian girl as well.

“Who is she?”

“Natasha. Her dad’s a pri- important man in the Russian ministry.”

“Great. Does she speak English?”

“I have little English.”

“There you go!” said Will triumphantly before disappearing.

“Will! Dammit. Do you want an ice-cream?”

“Ice-cream?”

Barney pointed to the counter with the different types of ice-cream. Natasha’s face lit up and Barney reluctantly dug his money out. Natasha picked her flavours and came skipping back to the table. Clint reappeared, ordered his own ice-cream and greeted Natasha. It was like watching a puppy meeting a friend it had met once before. Bobbi was a little more reserved but was still polite. When Natasha had finished her ice-cream, the three of them went to play football on the path by the lake. Barney was so glad there was a fence by the lake.

“Can we go on the boating lake? Please Barney?” asked Bobbi when the three of them trotted back to his table.

“Please?” asked Natasha.

“No. Maybe tomorrow.”

Clint chewed his lip. “If you take us all on the boating lake, I won’t tell Uncle or Will about the magazine under your bed.”

Barney choked on his hot chocolate. “Hey, who wants to go on the boating lake?!”

There was a chorus of cheers and a snort of laughter from the elderly couple sat nearby. Barney spoke to the rental guy and had a brief discussion about how he could totally be trusted with three kids. It was fine. They found a boat big enough to fit them all, and the cricket bat and ball Bobbi’s mother had provided them. Barney was concerned about having to play cricket. Mainly because he had no idea what cricket _was_. Bobbi promised to teach the Barton brothers but since Mrs Morse had looked very sceptical, Barney wasn’t holding out much hope.

“This is fun.” decided Bobbi.

She wasn’t rowing. Barney was. It was not fun. Clint was telling Natasha that that goose was the one with a vendetta against him. Except she didn’t know what vendetta meant. Neither did Clint, he’d just overheard Hansel complaining about Slughorn having a vendetta and liked the word. Barney was considering it a miracle he’d used the word correctly.

“Can I go?” asked Natasha, gesturing to the oars.

Barney agreed. Since she was sat furthest away from the oars, it led to a precarious moment when she climbed over Clint and Bobbi. Barney was half-expecting someone to end up in the lake. Probably him. It would be fitting. The goose would probably mistake him for Clint and attack. Barney came out of these thoughts when he realised Natasha, Clint, and Bobbi had gone quiet and were staring at a point on the lake. Barney turned his head to follow their sight line and swore. The oar was drifting away, precariously near a swan.

“Motherfucker.” said Natasha. “I like this word.”

“Of course you do.” replied Barney. “You can say it to your father and start another war.”

Speaking of war, Barney was surprised he’d been allowed to look after three kids unsupervised. He decided it said something about his combat skills. He’d been allowed to progress up to sparring with Hansel. Not with Gretel, he was nowhere near that level of skill.

“We’re stuck.” said Clint.

“I hadn’t noticed.” replied Barney.

“There’s always the cricket bat.”

Bobbi was holding the bright pink cricket bat out, as if Barney hadn’t noticed it. Sarcasm didn’t always work on ten-year-olds. Or Russians.

“Why not?” asked Barney, grabbing the bat.

It was a lot more difficult with a cricket bat, mainly because it was smaller and Barney was deeply concerned he might drop that. They made slow progress back to the miniature dock, with Clint giving constant updates of the goose’s position.

“They all look the same, how can you possibly tell which goose it is?”

“It gives off an air of menace.”

That was a phrase Uncle Douglas had used to describe Chick. And Hansel. And Jem. And even Aaron, which was stretching it a bit since he was only going into third-year this September. Barney was going into fourth-year and still hadn’t been told he had an air of menace. Which peeved him slightly if he was being honest.

“That’s bullshit.”

“You did _not_ hear that from me.” said Barney.

“Motherfucker.” contributed Natasha.

“Merlin.”

“Benny said it.”

Benny was her eighteen-year-old brother, built like a brick wall and currently the coolest Muggle Barney knew. Mostly because of the muscles. They were getting nearer the dock. The rental guy was squinting over at them, clearly trying to work out if his eyes were playing up or if the oar had been transformed into a pink plastic cricket bat. When Barney got to the dock, he urged the kids out first and then scrambled out.

“Er… the oar’s by the island. One of the kids dropped it.”

The rental guy sighed. “You said you could look after them.”

“Well, we didn’t drown.”

“Or get killed by a goose.” said Clint cheerfully.

Barney urged his brother away before the vein in the rental guy’s forehead actually burst.

“Can we play cricket now?” asked Bobbi hopefully.

“Remind me how we do that.”

The rules, when explained by a ten-year-old, were fairly simple. Hit the ball with the bat. Catch the ball with your hands and try not to swear because it turned out Natasha could hit that thing really _hard_. Clint and Bobbi were on one team, and Barney and Natasha were on the other. As they had no real way of keeping score, the victorious team was a hotly contested debate throughout the game. Clint managed to hit the ball into a tree, looking extremely pleased with himself as Barney considered how the _fuck_ he was going to climb it. The solution was clearly to delegate.

“Clint, you’re up bird-boy. You’re better at climbing.”

Clint clambered up the tree. There was an outraged squawk followed by a thump.

“Aw ball, no.”

“Clint?”

“Hang on. Aw bird, no.”

“ _Clint_?”

A few seconds later, Clint slithered back down the tree, clutching the ball. He had twigs in his hair, bird shit on his hand, and his shirt was torn in three different places.

“Do you want me to get rid of the bird stuff?” asked Barney, doing his best to stop himself laughing.

Those magazines were a powerful threat.

“I know we call you bird-boy but seriously?”

“Shush you.” said Clint.

Barney Vanished the bird shit and took the ball back. The next ball hit Barney in his own balls, which led to a long list of swearing. Bobbi was very apologetic and offered to buy him ice-cream when she had some pocket money. Natasha picked up on almost all of the words, which was going to make a _fantastic_ impression on her father.

*

 

 

After the cricket game, Barney guided them back to the café. The rental guy was glaring at them. If he squinted, Barney was pretty sure he could see the oar on the little island in the lake. Clint collapsed in a chair. Bobbi and Natasha sat on either side of him. Barney ordered more ice-cream and came and sat opposite Clint.

“When do you go back to Russia?”

Natasha frowned. “I think on three days?”

“You can hang out with us!” said Clint.

Barney suddenly saw his next three days filled with cricket. The kids, when they’d eaten their ice-cream, ran out to play football. Clint reappeared to beg Barney to join in and play goalkeeper. Barney, because he was an _idiot_ , did. Goal was a pair of trees that Barney had to linger in. It was every child for themselves and Barney was no expert in Muggle sports but he was pretty sure you weren’t allowed to shove your opponent over. Clint kicked the ball into Barney’s twice, out of sheer spite it felt like. Bobbi was winning, mostly because she always looked like she was aiming for Barney’s groin which made him flinch. He felt this was reasonable. Then Clint hit him there for the third fucking time.

“You little shit.” yelped Barney.

He leaned against the tree, taking several deep breaths. Holy shit, how did his mom go through childbirth twice? This was hell and only lasted a few minutes. Clint’s birth had taken five hours. Five hours of this. When Barney had recovered enough to walk, he threw himself after Clint with a vengeance. He planned to dangle him upside down for at least a minute. Possibly tie him to a tree with his shoelaces. Uncle Alastor and Will returned just as Barney was dangling Clint over his shoulder. He was holding him by the ankles and Clint’s head was somewhere around Barney’s hips. They were both laughing and Natasha and Bobbi were both demanding a turn.

“I leave you alone for one day.” said Uncle Alastor’s voice, sounding more amused than anything.

“Hey Uncle Al.” said Clint. “What did we have for breakfast this morning?”

“I had porridge. You told me it looked like sick.”

“It’s him.”

It had become a habit, to ask each other defining questions. Barney had been lectured on Polyjuice Potion by Uncle William at least three times and Clint had been told by Chick. Barney put his little brother down, avoiding dropping him on the head. Uncle Alastor took one look at their torn clothes and shook his head. Barney could practically _hear_ the ‘I’m not even going to ask’ crossing his mind, even if he wasn’t a Legilimens. Will just looked vaguely resigned. Uncle Alastor spoke to Natasha in Russian. Will held his hand out to her and she grabbed it.

“Goodbye motherfuckers.”

Will and Uncle Alastor looked at Barney in disbelief. Barney managed a weak smile. Will and Natasha Disapparated. They dropped Bobbi at home and began to walk back to the house.

“Nice hat, Uncle.” said Barney.

Uncle Alastor grinned. “Well, it doesn’t scare the Muggles.”

He was currently hiding his mad eye with a bowler hat and was dressed in a suit. He must have been dealing with Muggles today.

“Did you have a good day?” asked Clint.

“Romanov’s an arsehole.” growled Uncle Alastor. “But he’s important.”

“Natasha’s cool.” decided Clint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry this chapter took me so long to add!! It's been exam week at uni :/ Don't forget to review!! :D


	11. Ice-Cream

** 10th July 1974- Barney: 13, Clint: 10 **

 

Today was a good day, in Clint’s opinion. Sure, Bobbi was back in Manchester and Natasha was in Russia but Clint was in Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour with Barney and Jem. And Will would be finishing work earlier than usual and was taking them for a meal as an early celebration for Barney’s birthday.

“Do you think I could beat Black in a fight?” asked Jem.

Barney asked which Black. From what Clint had overheard from the adults, Jem got into a lot of fights at Hogwarts, despite Barney’s continued attempts to restrain him.

“The Gryffindor. Paddy, or whatever Potter calls him.”

“Padfoot I think.” replied Barney. “Hey, is that Gabe?”

Clint followed Barney’s gaze. He’d met Gabriel once at King’s Cross last year. Jem leaned across the table, ignoring Barney’s protests and banged on the window. Gabriel waved when he saw them and dragged the two boys he was with into the shop.

“Shift up kid.” said Jem.

“Don’t call me kid.” replied Clint automatically, even as he wriggled up to the window.

Barney rolled his eyes. He did that a lot around more than one Moody. Gabriel stopped at the counter while the youngest boy and the middle one came over. The middle one looked vaguely familiar, dark-haired, pale and roughly the same age as Barney.

“Hey, you’re Aaron’s mate right?” said Jem.

“Yes. I’m Gadreel.”

 _Ohhhh_. That explained it. Aaron only had three friends, and since one of them was his own twin it didn’t really count. The other was Mary or Marta or something. Both boys were wearing robes, while Gabriel was wearing jeans and a shirt with a very loud pattern. None of the Moodys wore robes, except when the Auror members had official hearings to attend.

“Hey guys.” said Gabriel, reappearing bearing three ice-creams.

“Any of those for your brothers?” asked Barney.

Gabriel scoffed. “No.”

“Mercy Lewis.” said Clint.

Barney and Jem laughed. Gabriel ordered Gadreel to get ice-creams for himself and his younger brother.

“Barney, gimme twenty Knuts. Please.” said Clint.

“Why?”

“I want another ice-cream.”

“One the size of twenty Knuts?! No!”

“Why not?!”

“Because.”

Clint pouted. Barney stared him dead in the eye for all of five seconds before passing him two Sickles.

“Get me and Jem one each as well. No walnuts for Jem.”

Clint grinned and slithered out of the booth. He headed to the counter to the sound of Jem arguing with Gabriel about something. Once his orders arrived, he was faced with an interesting dilemma. How to carry three ice-creams in two hands.

“Do you want some help?” asked Gadreel from behind him.

Clint jumped. “Don’t sneak up on people!”

“I apologise.”

“Yeah, I’d like a hand.”

Gadreel gave the younger brother his own ice-cream and sent him back to the table. Clint handed him Barney’s ice-cream and the pair of them went back to the table. Clint handed Jem’s over to him.

“You moved. Why did you move?”

“Gabriel wanted the window.” said Barney. “Jem kept leaning over me to talk to Gabriel.”

“Oh.”

The youngest brother, who _still_ hadn’t introduced himself, was also next to the window. Clint carefully clambered into his seat, passed Jem his ice-cream and started attacking his own. Gadreel mumbled something as he thrust Barney’s ice-cream at him.

“Thanks.” replied Barney. “Clint, don’t think I didn’t see you pocket the change.”

“Ass.” replied Clint, reluctantly returning it.

Barney smirked at him. Gabriel and Jem were talking about pranks Gabriel had pulled and fights Jem had been in. Clint turned to the younger brother.

“What’s your name?”

“Castiel Novak.”

With that, he went back to staring at the table. Clint scowled at him before turning to look at Gadreel.

“Are you in Hufflepuff with Aaron?”

“I am.” said Gadreel. “We have the same dorm.”

“Is he a good dorm sharer? Uncle Kenneth is always telling him off for being messy.”

Gadreel laughed. “The house-elves tidy up after us. But he is pretty messy.”

Clint could believe that. “Have you met Kenny?”

“I have. He was showing me his rock collection.”

Jem snorted. “Right. Did you have fun pretending to actually be interested?”

“I didn’t have to pretend.”

Jem raised an eyebrow. It was rare anyone stood up to Jem when he started snapping. Barney looked between the two, his own eyebrows up around his hairline.

“Bullshit.”

“Unlike you, Kenny’s actually interesting.”

Silence fell on the table. At least until Clint said, “Holy shit”. Jem’s hand flexed but before anything could start, Barney had dropped a hand onto Jem’s arm.

“Don’t.”

Jem rolled his eyes. Clint turned to Gadreel, wide-eyed. Gadreel had relaxed fractionally but he kept glancing at Barney. Clint couldn’t understand why. If anyone was going to start a fight, it was going to be Jem, not Barney. The door to the ice-cream parlour chimed open.

“Are you going up to Underhill this summer?” asked Gabriel.

“Yeah.” said Jem. “A whole fortnight of doing nothing.”

“Nothing for you.” replied Barney. “I’ve got Quidditch drills. You’re gonna help me, right Clint?”

“Depends. Can I throw a ball at your head?”

“No.”

“I’m gonna do it anyway.”

“I know but I had to try.”

A new person joined them at the table. It was Will, in robes. It took Clint a moment to recognise him. His face was drawn and he sat down next to Barney silently, without even a ‘hello’.

“Did you have a hearing today?” asked Barney.

“No. We… found Benjy Fenwick. Or part of him anyway.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Will didn’t seem to hear him. He was staring at the leftovers of Gadreel’s ice-cream.

“I had to tell his boyfriend.”

“Fuck.” said Jem. “You need like eight drinks.”

Will managed a laugh. Sort of. ‘Laugh’ was generous. Barney looked helpless so Clint reached over to pat Will on the head.

“Thanks Hawk. I have to go and tell his mother now.”

“Why can’t the boyfriend?” asked Gabriel.

Will said, “We don’t want to cause unnecessary grief and stress in this difficult time,” with the air of someone quoting something he’d heard a thousand times and didn’t fully agree with. “Be careful out there kids.”

With that, he pushed himself up from the table and left. Jem sighed.

“Fucking war. Fucking Death Eaters.”

The mood had been killed and they clearly weren’t going for a meal later. Barney’s hand had gone to his hip, just briefly. Clint knew he had a knife there, mostly because he was there when Uncle Alastor made him wear it.

“We’ll get a meal.” said Barney, flashing an empty grin at Clint. “I found an American diner in the Muggle part in June. You and me kiddo, real burgers, milkshakes.”

“Done.” said Clint, mimicking Barney’s smile.


	12. Diagon Alley

** 24th July 1975- Barney: 15, Clint: 11 **

 

The owl carrying Barney and Clint’s Hogwarts letters arrived halfway through breakfast. Well, Alastor, Will, and Clint were halfway through breakfast. Barney had been awake for three hours and was outside in the back garden. When they’d moved into the house, they had set up a Quidditch hoop, which had started life as a Muggle basketball net. The Quaffle was a basketball and occasionally Clint volunteered to act as Beater, mostly so he could throw cricket balls at his brother and not get into trouble.

“The owl’s here.” said Alastor.

Will reluctantly left his breakfast and went to let it in. While he had the window open, he shouted for Barney. Barney, predictably, ignored him. He tended to get that way when he was practising. Will shook his head, shooed the owl away, and ducked back into the kitchen. He tossed the letters to Alastor. Clint, cheeks bulging with uneaten food, reached to grab for his letter. Alastor, with the ease of several years’ practice, lifted the letter above his head.

“You’ll get grease stains on it.”

Clint said… something. It was difficult to tell with the sheer amount of food in his mouth.

“Close your mouth when you eat.” scolded Will. “You can read it when you’ve finished eating.”

Clint’s chewing became frantic. Will and Alastor exchanged entertained looks. Will headed outside to snatch Barney’s attention. Clint, having drained his glass of juice in one long swallow, eagerly grabbed his letter. He opened it and began to read it aloud. Thankfully, the Muggle telephone rang before he got past ‘Headmaster Albus’. Alastor went to get it.

“Moody residence.”

That was apparently how Muggles answered the phone, according to Susan Morse.

“Alastor, there is an owl in our kitchen.”

“Ah, Bobbi’s Hogwarts letter is here then.”

Before Susan said anything, there was a chorus of wordless yelling from Alastor’s kitchen. He waited for a moment but no words emerged. With a roll of his eyes, he cast a soundproofing charm with a flick of his hand.

“Sorry about that, one of the boys is murdering the other.”

“I’m shocked.” replied Susan. “Why is Bobbi’s letter attached to an owl?”

“Owl mail.”

Susan seemed to take a deep breath. “Alastor, I know you think that’s helpful but it isn’t. What is owl mail?”

“Wizards send letters attached to owls.”

“I suppose pigeons went out of fashion. Just, come and calm the damn thing down, will you? It’s defecated all over the sofa. And the letter itself makes no sense.”

“I’ll be over immediately.”

“Stop the fratricide first.” replied Susan, a touch of her usual good humour returning.

Alastor laughed and hung up. As he removed the charm, the yelling hit him in full force, only slightly diminished. The kitchen was chaos. Barney was dancing around in circles, Clint hanging off him like an overgrown monkey. Will was as useless as ever, laughing so hard he was in tears.

“Would somebody like to tell me exactly what is going on?”

“I’m Quidditch Captain!” said Barney.

His grin was ear-to-ear. Alastor congratulated him, making a note to buy Barney a new broom when they went to Diagon Alley.

“Get dressed, I’m going round to Bobbi’s to deal with the owl. Then we’ll go to Diagon Alley.”

*

Clint was practically bouncing when Uncle Alastor finally returned. Bobbi and Mrs Morse were with him and even Ben, Bobbi’s older brother.

“Hey Ben.” said Barney, the tips of his ears turning red.

“Hi. Wanted to see this magic stuff for myself, you know?”

Bobbi hugged Clint. Then Will took Barney, Clint and Bobbi’s hands while Uncle Alastor got Mrs Morse and Ben. They Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. While Barney was vomiting, Will explained to Mrs Morse and Ben what had just happened and how they could convert their Muggle money into magical money.

“Come on, I’ll take you to Gringotts, the bank.”

“There’s only one bank?” asked Ben.

His question went unanswered as Uncle Alastor tapped the central brick. The bricks fell away, revealing Diagon Alley to the Muggles. It had stopped amazing Clint ages ago but Bobbi had never been before.

“Wow.” said Bobbi. “It’s amazing.”

It was also packed. There were a few nervous people, wearing Muggle clothing, but most were wizards with their robes. Will took Ben and Mrs Morse to the bank, leaving Barney, Bobbi, and Clint clustered around Uncle Alastor. He had his normal eye on the lists they’d made and his mad eye darting around the crowd. When Will returned with the other two, he was promptly sent off to the apothecary. Ben tagged along with him upon hearing the magical kids had to have robes.

“Which shop is the best for that?” asked Mrs Morse.

She had a tight grip on Bobbi and Clint’s hands while Barney loped ahead.

“Madam Malkin’s.”

The outside of Madam Malkin’s shop had posters of three Death Eaters pinned up on it; Fenrir Greyback, Azazel Helson, and Laufey Jotun. Clint shivered as he went past. There were two boys already inside Madam Malkin’s. One with short dark hair and another smaller skinny one with floppy blond hair.

“Hey.” said the brunet. “I’m Bucky. This is Steve.”

Steve lifted a hand. Clint genuinely feared he might fall over.

“Clint. This is Bobbi and Barney.”

Barney was seen to first out of their group. Steve plucked at his robe. The spindly woman next to him had to be his mother. They had the same fine blond hair, the same concerned look, and both looked like they needed a couple of Kinney’s meals. The woman who looked like Bucky was reading a Muggle newspaper.

“So, are you just starting too?” asked Bobbi.

Steve nodded. “Do you think it’ll be a problem that we’re norm- Muggles?”

“Muggle-born.” corrected Barney, muffled through the robe being pulled over his head. “Dyer’s Twelve, I can put a robe on!”

Bobbi ignored the last part. “Clint says it doesn’t. I’m a Muggle-born too.”

“There’s lots of Muggle-borns.” said Clint. “It doesn’t make a difference to anyone with a lick of sense.”

He didn’t mention Death Eaters.

“What about people without a lick of sense?” asked Bucky.

Clint shrugged. “Jinx ‘em.”

“Clint.”

“Fine. Get Jem to jinx ‘em.”

Uncle Alastor rolled his mad eye and went back to discussing prices with Madam Malkin.

“Have you converted your pounds?” asked Bobbi. “We did it at that big white building, Gringatts.”

“Gott. Gringotts.”

“Shut up Clint.”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other. It was the same kind of look Clint and Barney used to share when someone asked where their bruises came from. It was the sort of look you had when an uncomfortable topic had been brought up and you really wanted it to go away.

“Do you know about the Houses?” asked Clint. “Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and… what’s that other one Uncle? Slimy, Slithery…”

“When I get out of this robe,” threatened Barney, “I’m gonna shove a Bludger’s bat right up your-”

“Barney!” rumbled Uncle Alastor. “That is enough. And Clint, stop winding him up.”

Barney scowled, his ears turning red. Clint mimicked the scowl.

“The other House is called Slytherin.” said Clint. “That’s the one my brother’s in.”

“Oh.” said Steve, looking far more relieved. “What’s the difference?”

Clint told them the basics of what he knew, corrected by Barney. Steve perked up at the mention of bravery.

“Can anyone get in? Even if you’re not strong?”

“Steve, no.” said Bucky. “C’mon, I can’t keep hauling your skinny arse out of fights.”

“I’ll help.” volunteered Clint. At a stern look from Uncle Alastor, he corrected it to, “My cousin will help.”

“Jem?” asked Bobbi.

“Who else?”

“Aaron?” suggested Clint. “Jason doesn’t like fighting. He’s boring.”

“Sensible.” said Uncle Alastor.

Clint heaved a sigh. Bobbi was next to be fitted, with Barney coming over to say hi to Bucky and Steve properly.

“If anyone gives you sh… a hard time, tell Clint. He’ll tell me and I’ll deal with it. Especially if they come from Slytherin.”

Steve and Bucky were finished and their robes were paid for while Clint was being fitted. When he emerged from the mass of black fabric, they’d both gone. Will and Ben had returned, carrying two cauldrons and apothecary supplies.

“There are beetle eyes in this bag.” said Ben, sounding pained.

“I’ll take Clint and Bobbi to get a wand.” said Uncle Alastor. “Will, Barney, put those in the rooms.”

Mrs Morse and Ben came with Uncle Alastor, Clint, and Bobbi. Bobbi had grabbed Clint’s hand so they didn’t get separated. They came into Ollivander’s shop. Clint had never been in before and he wasn’t sure he wanted to come back. Ollivander had pale silver eyes that never seemed to blink. Bobbi tightened her grip on his hand.

“Ah Mr Moody. I wondered when I would be seeing your youngest nephew. I was sorry to hear about your sister. Ah, Edith. Ash and unicorn hair, quite pliant. If I had known what Harold would do with the wand I sold to him… blackthorn and-”

Uncle Alastor’s voice was rough. “I know what his damn wand is made of. Get on with it.”

Clint felt his jaw tighten. His dad’s wand had been given to his great-aunt on that side, a mad old woman who still owned a townhouse in Oxford somewhere and believed his dad had done ‘what he should’. All his dad’s possessions had been given to her, even the things that had been his mom’s once.

“Yes of course. And this is your niece? No, surely she’s too young.”

“My friend.” said Clint. “Bobbi.”

Ollivander handed a wand over to Clint, rambling on about its properties. Holly and phoenix feather and Clint took out three shelves when he flicked his wand. Ollivander hummed and grabbed another.

“Silver lime and dragon heartstring. Suited to those skilled in the art of Legilimency.”

Clint set fire to the till. He apologised for it, but that wand was very quickly removed. They went through five more wands before Ollivander handed him one that sent warmth down his body.

“Dogwood and unicorn hair. Capable of great mischief. I recommend you watch this one, Mr Moody.”

Uncle Alastor paid and tugged Clint backwards. The first wand Bobbi picked up sent sparks out of the tip. Clint thought she’d have to try at least one more but apparently that was it.

“Red oak and phoenix feather. Seven Galleons.”

“I’ll pay.” said Uncle Alastor.

Before Mrs Morse could protest, Uncle Alastor had paid and whisked them out of the shop. Bobbi was admiring her wand.

“The letter says they can take a toad?” said Ben. “Why would they take a toad?”

“Can I have a cat, Mum?”

“Not with a dog in the house.”

“The cat could stay with us in the holidays!” said Clint.

Uncle Alastor rolled his eyes but agreed to house the cat. If Clint treated it as his. Barney and Will met up with them mid-argument.

“Can I have a cat?” asked Barney innocently, widening his blue eyes.

Will rolled his own. “Great. Two cats.”

The group went into Flourish and Botts, list of books ready. Barney volunteered to help Bobbi and Clint, if the adults wanted a coffee. They agreed and left quickly.

“I know what you’re doing.” said Clint smugly.

“I’m helping you find books.”

“No, you’re buttering up Uncle Al.”

“Uncle Al?” said Barney, sounding amused. “Is that a thing now? You’re going the wrong way.”

“Am not.” said Clint as he turned around.

Barney rolled his eyes and herded them to the Transfiguration section. While Bobbi was hunting down _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ and Barney was looking for _Teacups to Toadstools: A Complete Guide_ , Clint walked into someone. As in literally bounced off them. In his defence, he’d been looking for the book he and Bobbi needed. When he stumbled back, he found himself looking up at a blond-haired, snooty-faced boy about the same age as Barney.

“Sorry! It was an accident, I swear.”

The boy’s annoyance melted and he smiled.

“You look like Chick. Are you his brother? Hick? Heck?”

“I’m Barney’s brother. Heck looks like his dad.”

Barney arrived then, three books in hand.

“Clint, who are- oh. Hi Lucifer.”

Lucifer gave Barney a cold smile. It looked cold anyway. Barney dumped the books in Clint’s arms then folded his own. He’d gone tense.

“I had no idea your brother was starting Hogwarts this year. Ah, and is this your sister?”

Bobbi had appeared. Clint took a step closer to her. Lucifer reminded him of Chick, with that strange smile that didn’t reached their eyes.

“Clint’s friend. Is Gabe around?”

“No, just me and Castiel.”

Clint had met Castiel two weeks earlier in Fortescue’s. He was still wearing robes and looked deeply annoyed with the world. Clint would hate to have to wear robes 24/7. Lucifer was in a Muggle suit.

“What’s he wearing?” hissed Bobbi.

“Robes. You’ve seen the Old Man wearing robes.”

“He’s like ninety, I thought he was a bit batty.”

The hushed conversation evidently wasn’t as hushed as either of them would have liked as Barney looked despairing and Lucifer had raised an eyebrow.

“Are you a…”

“Muggleborn.” said Barney sharply.

Lucifer’s smile was still empty and cold.

“I see. Come along Castiel.”

Castiel’s eyes had widened. Barney steered Bobbi and Clint through the shop, picking up the rest of the books they needed. Barney was still tense, his jaw tight. If it wasn’t for the mullet, he’d look an awful lot like their dad. Clint never said that though.

*

Once the books were bought and the adults found, they went to the Magical Menagerie. Bobbi and Barney immediately went to coo over the cats with Ben and Susan. Will went to look at the fire crabs. Uncle Alastor sort of lingered at the till, scaring the poor witch behind it. Clint went to the back, where the birds were. And there he found it. The most beautiful creature in the world.

It was a bird. Well, bird was pushing it. It was a small ball of grey fluff, with long yellow feet the size of its body, a pair of black eyes, and a razor sharp yellow beak. Clint was in love. It looked so pathetically lonely, crouched in the mass of twigs. Clint hurriedly rushed over to Uncle Alastor and tugged him back.

“Please can I have it? Please? Please? I’ll never ask for anything ever again until I’m seventeen.”

This was all delivered in a very low voice so he didn’t scare the baby bird.

“It’s ten Galleons.” said Uncle Alastor. “And I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Please?”

“Fine. You can have the ugly bird.”

“He’s adorable.”

Uncle Alastor fetched the witch on the till who reluctantly said the bird wasn’t for sale. Clint could feel his heart breaking. As in being cracked into two.

“But it says ten Galleons!”

“He’s been reserved for Abraxas Malfoy.”

“I’ll pay twenty Galleons.” said Uncle Alastor firmly.

“I’m sure Mr Malfoy can wait.”

With that, Clint had a baby sparrowhawk. He’d also corralled Barney into returning to Flourish and Botts with him so he could buy a falconry book. Barney had a grey tom that he named Trick and Bobbi had a ginger kitten that she called Huntress. Clint, after a long debate, named his hawk Ronin.

*

Alastor leaned against the kitchen door and watched his youngest nephew chatter excitedly to the grey fluffball. While chopping raw chicken very finely. Alastor refused to get a blender specifically for chicken for a bird.

“That just seems cannibalistic.” said Barney from his spot on the kitchen island.

Not sat _at_ the island on one of the available stools. No. Sat _on_ the island. That Alastor had cleaned that morning.

“Well I can’t go and buy a blackbird, can I?” argued Clint.

Barney, stumped by this eleven-year-old logic, shrugged and went back to cuddling his kitten. Which was also sat on the kitchen island. The fluffball was also on the kitchen side. Alastor was creating a new rule.

“No pets on the kitchen surfaces. Or the table. Move them. Now.”

Barney jumped off and sauntered into the living room. The kitten was now on his shoulder, clinging on for dear life. Clint complained more but relented and moved the fluff onto the chair, still talking to it.

“Merlin, I’m going to regret this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo!!! I finally published another chapter!!


	13. Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments!!! I'm glad you guys are enjoying this!

** 1st September 1975: Clint- 11, Barney- 15 **

****

Clint was still feeling nervous about Hogwarts. Sure, it _sounded_ great but it was a long way from Manchester and Uncle Alastor. He didn’t tell anybody though, instead triple-checking that he’d packed everything, that his bow case was secure and his targets were rolled up at the bottom of his trunk. Ronin went in a makeshift sling since he wasn’t old enough to go in a cage. Barney had suggested that but Clint had smacked him.

“Are we ready?” asked Uncle Alastor, heading off the fratricide.

The three of them, and the Morses, had come down to London the day before and stayed at the Leaky Cauldron. Apparently, Barney didn’t want to throw up on the first day back. Wuss. They got three taxis to King’s Cross. Uncle Alastor led the way to the wall between Platforms 9 and 10.

“We have to run at a brick wall?” asked Bobbi.

“I’ll go first.” said Barney with that superior air only an older sibling could pull off.

He rushed to the wall and skidded through. Ben swore. Clint filed the word away for later use and followed his brother. Bobbi came through a minute later, followed by Ben and Mrs Morse and Uncle Alastor. The platform was full and in the space of about three minutes, Aaron and Uncle Kenneth had appeared.

“Alastor! Good to see you!”

Bobbi nudged him. “Who’s he?”

“Grampa Conall’s brother. Old Man’s other son.” muttered Barney.

Aaron gave Clint and Bobbi a wide smile.

“Come on, we’ll get your trunks on the train.”

Barney grumbled but grabbed Clint’s case.

“Can we help?” asked Bobbi.

“No.” ordered Barney. “Grab Jem if you see him.”

Since Uncle Douglas had never been early for anything in his life, including dropping his son off at the platform, Clint didn’t bother keeping an eye out. Chick came over, Heck flanking him and their mom, Aunt Miriam, crying again.

“If anyone gives you any problems for being a Mudblood, tell me and I’ll slit their throats.”

“Thank you, Chick.” said Uncle Kenneth, looking mildly irritated.

Chick made comments like that if the food was late at a restaurant so it had stopped bothering Clint. Bobbi on the other hand, looked terrified.

“They’ll tell me.” snapped Barney.

“Barney’s Quidditch captain this year.” said Uncle Alastor.

Uncle Alastor was _boasting._ Clint knew this because he had the same faint smile Clint’s mom used to have when she boasted about Barney getting into the Quidditch team at twelve or Clint’s high score on his math test.

“Well done.” said Uncle Kenneth, beaming. “You clearly take after your Uncle Jaime.”

As if on cue, Jason appeared with Grandma.

“Who takes after Dad?”

“Barney’s Slytherin Quidditch captain.” bragged Clint.

Jason grinned. “That’s brilliant! Dad was the Slytherin Quidditch captain. Where do you play?”

“Chaser.”

“Dad was Seeker. Really good. We’ve got trophies at home.”

“You’ll have to show me at Christmas.”

Jason’s smile widened. From what Clint knew, he spent next to no time at all around other Moodys, not even the two in his House.

“Get on the train.” ordered Uncle Kenneth.

Jason hugged their grandma and then disappeared into the crowd. Barney hugged Uncle Alastor as did Clint.

“Bye Uncle!” shouted Clint as he followed Barney to the train.

Barney showed them to the carriage where he’d stored their trunks and Huntress and then left. Clint settled himself onto a seat and dug out his carton of Ronin’s food from his backpack.

“What are you even feeding him?”

“Chicken. Yes, I know it’s cannibalitic.”

“What?”

“I dunno, Barney said it.”

*

Dean bit his lip as he glanced in a compartment. This one, like the last six he’d looked in, was full of older students. He’d been kicked out of an empty carriage by some Slytherin students. One of them spotted Dean and came out.

“First-year?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll show you a first-year compartment.”

He pointed Dean to the end of the carriage, even carrying his trunk for him while Dean carried his cat carrier. The boy pushed the compartment door open, storing the trunk in the luggage rack. Dean put the cat carrier down on the seat, next to another.

“He’s a first-year.”

With that, the older boy left, leaving Dean stood there looking at two other eleven-year-olds. The girl had long blonde hair, tied up in a ponytail. The boy looked a lot like the boy that had helped Dean, with spiky dark blond hair and blue-grey eyes. Both of them were wearing jeans, so Dean felt a little less out of place.

“I’m Bobbi Morse.” said the girl, smiling. “He’s Clint Barton.”

“Dean Winchester.”

Clint sat up a little more, careful to not dislodge the bundle he had against his chest.

“Like John Winchester?”

“He’s my dad.”

“He works with my uncle and cousin. In the Auror department.”

Bobbi laughed. “And your other uncle. And your other uncle. And your uncle.”

“Think you missed an uncle.” replied Clint, half-grinning. Seeing Dean’s confusion, he said, “Most of my mom’s side work in the Auror department. Alastor Moody?”

“Oh, Dad’s mentioned him a couple of times.”

Dad had called him ‘that paranoid fucker’ but Dean saw no reason to share that. As the train began to pull out of the station, a pair of dark-haired boys and a redheaded girl joined them. They introduced themselves as Frank Castle, Benny Lafitte, and Charlie Bradbury.

“How do they decide what House we go into?” asked Bobbi.

Clint shrugged. “How the hell should I know?”

“Because you’re a pure-blood?”

“Yeah, neither of my parents told me jack. Barney said something about wearing a hat. And the others won’t tell me anything.”

“You’re a pure-blood?” asked Charlie. “Your mum and dad are both magic?”

Clint ducked his head to fuss at whatever was in the sling. Dean’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask what was in there. Clint very gently slid his hand into the sling and pulled out the ugliest bird Dean had ever seen.

“What the hell is that?” asked Benny.

“What’s its name?” asked Frank.

“Ronin. He’s a sparrowhawk.” said Clint. “I adopted him from the Menagerie in Diagon Alley.”

“Had they sold out of cats?” asked Benny, eying the ‘bird’ with a hint of fear.

Clint rolled his eyes. Bobbi reached over to swat at Benny.

“Can you pass me the feed?”

“Come on, we _just_ made new friends and you want to scare them off?”

“Shut up Birdie.” replied Clint lightly.

Bobbi rolled her eyes at Dean and clambered onto the seat. She pulled out a Tupperware box full of… raw meat. The smell was disgusting.

“Why?” asked Benny.

“It needs food!” argued Frank.

Clint pulled out the food and began to feed the… bird. It was a messy and disgusting process and even Clint had his nose wrinkled. Bobbi had delicately covered her nose and mouth. When it was done, Clint wiped his hands clean on a towel before shoving it into a plastic bag.

“I hate watching you do that.” said Bobbi.

“Yeah, I know.”

The train ride passed quietly from then, although Dean, Benny, and Frank bought half the trolley when it came through. Charlie and Dean started playing Exploding Snap. Dean had never played before but Charlie had bought a deck in Diagon Alley.

*

The sun had almost set when a group of older students came to their carriage. One of them knocked and stuck his head round the door. He was broad-shouldered, already wearing his robes with a badge pinned onto them. There were three boys and a girl behind him, but only the short boy with the lollipop was paying attention to them.

“Hey chickenbutt. We’re coming up to Hogwarts, get changed. And give me the damn bird.”

“Wait, what?”

“You have to row across the lake to get to the school as a first-year.”

“Will you look after him?”

The boy closed his eyes. “I’ll get Kinney to do it. She can come into Hogwarts.”

“Alright.”

Clint gently handed the bird over to the redhead. The older boy cradled it and put the sling on. He ruffled Clint’s hair and left. Bobbi absently sorted Clint’s hair out. The girls changed first while the boys waited outside and then swapped. As they got off, Clint flashed Dean a grin. The boats could only fit four at a time so Clint, Bobbi, Benny, and Frank climbed into one while Dean got in with Charlie and a black-haired boy called Castiel and a brunette girl called Laura.

The journey across the lake was pretty tame, considering that no-one in Dean’s boat had ever rowed before. Dean could have sworn he saw something move beneath the water. When they reached the shore, they were greeted by a stern-faced witch. She looked disappointed with them already.

“I am Professor McGonagall, teacher of Transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor House. Come along for the Sorting.”

Clint dropped back to walk next to Dean.

“What is this test?” asked a small blond boy.

“Can’t be anything bad if Chick passed it.” muttered Clint.

Bobbi snickered, earning her a glare from McGonagall.

“This way please.”

Dean followed the other first-years into the hall.

“Whoa.”

It was huge, with floating candles below a ceiling that reflected the sky. There were four long tables, each with a long flag over them. Dean spotted the boy that had been into their carriage. He was slipping onto the green-and-silver table from a side door. He accepted a few fist bumps and grinned at something a boy opposite him said.

“Wait, there’s a hat on that stool.” said Charlie. “Was your brother being serious Clint?”

Clint ran a hand through his hair. “You have _got_ to be kidding.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to add the Sorting into this chapter but it was getting a bit too long so that's next chapter.  
> Let me know what you think!!


	14. Clint's Sorting

** 1st September 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15 **

 

Gadreel watched the queue intently. He could pick out Castiel, talking softly to a redhead girl. Aaron was sat next to him, craning his neck to see his younger cousin. Jem was leaning forwards too, taking an uncharacteristic amount of interest. Gadreel could see Barney slipping in from a small side door next to the Slytherin table. He sat between Akihiro and Gabriel. Gadreel looked away quickly before he could be caught staring.

“There he is!” hissed Aaron.

Jason was also watching, further down the table where the first-years would sit. The first name called was Bruce Banner, a small mousy boy wearing glasses too big for him. The Hat shouted for Ravenclaw. The blue-and-bronze table cheered and Banner went to join them.

“He has to be next, right?” said Jem. “Banner, Barton.”

“You’re so impatient.”

“Barnes, James!”

A dark-haired boy walked forwards, dropping onto the chair. The Hat stayed quiet for a very long time.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The boy headed over to their table. Jem had dropped his head to the table.

“Why? Fucking Sortings.”

Aaron caught Gadreel’s eye and rolled his own at his cousin’s dramatics. Gadreel felt his mouth twitch upwards, but he stopped himself from laughing. Then it was Clint’s turn.

“Barton, Clinton!”

There were a few whispers at the surname but most of them were quiet. The Hufflepuff table said next to nothing, fully aware they were sat next to three Moodys, two of them temperamental. Gadreel guessed most of the Slytherins would be quiet too, especially near Chick or Barney. The boy was a few inches taller than he had been when Gadreel met him in the ice-cream parlour. He lowered himself onto the stool, looking over to the Slytherin table.

*

Clint put the hat on his head and waited. He wasn’t sure how it worked but he certainly hadn’t expected a voice to whisper inside his head.

“Ah… a Barton. And so soon. Now, where to put you? Slytherin, like your father? You’re certainly ambitious enough. Resourceful too.”

 _I’m nothing like my father_ thought Clint resentfully. _If I’m Slytherin, I’m Slytherin like my brother._

“Loyalty. And determined to work until you get what you want. Hmm, yes. I know just where to put you. HUFFLEPUFF!”

Clint took the Hat off and got to his feet. He glanced at the Slytherin table on his way to Hufflepuff. Barney had slumped down, looking fed-up. Clint didn’t blame him. He’d wanted to be in the same House as Barney since Barney had gone to Ilvermony.

“Welcome to the best House!” called Jem.

Aaron grinned at him and Clint returned it. He sat near Jason, not close enough to look nervous but close enough to send despairing looks should the need arise. The next girl was already on the stool.

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

The girl bounced off her chair and headed over to the table. She gave Clint a shy smile as she sat down. Clint returned it. The Sorting dragged on. Frank got into Hufflepuff, sitting next to Clint and bumping his shoulder. Benny went to Slytherin and Charlie to Ravenclaw. Then it came to Bobbi.

“Morse, Barbara!”

Clint sat forward, fingers crossed. Bobbi sauntered forwards as if it was just her in the room. She sat down, put the hat on and waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually, the hat opened the rip in its brim.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Clint sighed. Bobbi took the hat off and headed to that table. She sat next to Benny, behind Clint, facing his back. He barely noticed when the next boy joined Hufflepuff, sitting next to the first girl. He was lost in trying to work out how much time he would get with Bobbi when he heard a surprising name.

“Romanoff, Natasha!”

*

Barney was disappointed when Clint didn’t join Slytherin. In truth, he hadn’t been sure Clint had even remotely enough self-preservation for Slytherin. He knew he was loyal enough for Hufflepuff. Then Barney hoped Bobbi would join Slytherin. She had more about her, and was cunning enough to avoid any punishment for whatever the hell the pair of them had done in their final year of primary school. Nobody had been able to get any straight answers out of them but somehow all the bins had ended up on the school roof and the gates wouldn’t open for teachers’ cars.

“Morse, Barbara!”

“Isn’t that the girl I saw you with in Flourish and Botts?” asked Lucifer.

“Little young for you, isn’t she Moody?” sneered Mulciber. “Unless that’s how you like them.”

“That’s just you.” replied Akihiro. “Since everyone else says no to you.”

“Aki, not now.” replied Barney.

“RAVENCLAW!”

 _Oh for_ fuck’s _sake._ Barney had been about to complain, especially with the way Clint’s shoulders slumped, but then he saw Natasha. Which wasn’t right. She was supposed to be starting at Durmstrang. Unless she was severely lost. Which was possible. A scrawny blond kid got Sorted into Slytherin but Barney paid him no attention.

“Romanoff, Natasha!”

Clint’s head snapped up. Barney watched, craning his neck to keep track of her small form. She sat on the stool, chin high. Almost as soon as the Hat touched her head, it screamed out her House.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Barney cheered with the rest of his House. Natasha walked over to the Slytherin table. Barney held his hand out for a high-five as she walked by.

“At least one of you got into the right House.”

She laughed at that, the same as when Barney got hit in the balls during cricket. Barney let her go and she went to sit with the other first-years. There were only three left to be Sorted now.

“Stark, Anthony!”

That got Slytherin excited. Son of Howard Stark, noted Slytherin, and Maria Black, a family that had almost no non-Slytherins. Anthony seemed fully aware of the attention, strutting like a peacock to the stool and Hat. He donned it with a flourish that made most people laugh. Barney had expected the Hat to do a similar thing as with Natasha, declaring Slytherin the minute the cloth touched her head. But no. It took six minutes, Gabriel timed, for the Hat to decide.

“RAVENCLAW!”

There was a loud murmur from the Slytherins and a louder cheer from the Ravenclaws. Stark sat down next to the first kid that had been Sorted. Samuel Wilson was much easier to Sort, going into Hufflepuff almost immediately. Then there came the kid Barney had seen in Clint’s carriage.

“Winchester, Dean!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The boy headed over and Barney felt his jaw tighten. Potter and Black were welcoming him with slaps on the back and cheers. Dumbledore gave his usual speech about adversity and unity and then the food appeared.

“Finally!” said Gabriel as he began to pile his plate.

Gabriel should have been three times the size he was in Barney’s opinion. When the eating had slowed down to a reasonable pace, the talk turned to families like it did every year.

“Hey, didn’t my little brother meet you in the robe shop?”

The scrawny kid nodded. “Yes. I’m Steve Rogers.”

The kid’s plate was piled pretty high and Barney had spotted some of it going into his pockets. He didn’t judge, he’d been tempted to do the same at Ilvermony. He’d have a word with him, tell him he didn’t have to go hungry here. Unless the kid planned to send some home. That was a thought that hadn’t occurred to Barney.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

“That’s a nice accent.” drawled Benny Lafitte, another first-year.

“Russian. My father sent me here to better my English.”

That was a lie, Barney would bet his Arrow on it. Natasha glanced at him before turning her attention back to Steve.

“I’m Pepper.”

“I’m going to try out for the Quidditch team this year.” said Regulus from further down the table.

“What position?” asked Barney.

Regulus grinned. “Seeker.”

From there, Barney got involved in a conversation involving Quidditch. The Manchester Devils had beaten Gabriel’s Puddlemere United and Barney planned to hold it over his head for eternity.


	15. First Week

** 2nd September 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15 **

 

Clint was midway through breakfast when Professor Sprout handed him his timetable.

“Thanks Professor.”

She smiled at him, passed Frank his timetable, and carried on down the Hall.

“What’ve we got first?” asked Frank.

Clint glanced down. “Double Potions with H Slughorn.”

Frank pulled a face. They finished eating and headed down to the dungeons. Several Slytherins were already there, including Natasha. She was talking to a blond boy and redhaired girl so Clint didn’t interrupt. He did lean on the wall next to Benny.

“Hey brother.” said Benny with an easy smile.

“What’s Slughorn like?” asked Frank. “He’s your head of House, right?”

“We didn’t talk to him. He just gave us timetables.”

A fat, bald man came hurrying down the dungeon’s corridors.

“So sorry I’m late. Come in, come in!”

Clint grabbed a seat on the same table as Benny and Frank. Natasha was sat next to the blond Slytherin boy she’d been talking to, and Sam Wilson, Castiel, and Laura Blackwall.

“I am Professor Slughorn, your Potions teacher for this year. Now, I see some familiar names on this register.” He swept the classroom with a beady eye, landing first on Castiel. “Now, you must be Castiel Novak. How is your brother Michael?”

“He’s very well, thank you sir.” replied Castiel. “He’s just started working for the Minister for Magic as his junior assistant.”

“Very good! He was always a clever lad. And you must be Natalia Romanova, daughter of Ivan, no?”

“That is correct, sir. I did not know you knew my father.”

Slughorn laughed half-heartedly at that.

“Well, official functions and the like. And I know many people who work alongside your father.”

Then he looked at Clint.

“Ah, you must be Barney Barton’s beloved brother!”

“Yessir. Clint, sir.”

“One of my best students, your brother. He’ll go far, I have no doubt. And how is your great-grandfather? I received word from Kenneth that his health was less than ideal.”

“The Old Man’s fine. Sir. Just a cold. It went away within a week.”

“Ah, good. And the rest of your family? How are they? Young William as I recall had a particular aptitude for Potions.”

“Still working as an Auror, sir. Like most of them.”

He wanted to bring up his father, just to wipe the smug look off Slughorn’s face. But that would backfire on Barney too. Slughorn smiled and turned back to the class.

“Today, we shall start working on a simple potion. The Cure for Boils. Whoever creates the best potion will win… this large bag of pick and mix sweets from Honeydukes.”

Murmurs burst out. Benny whistled under his breath. Frank nudged Clint.

“What’s a Honeydukes?”

“Sweetshop in the village near here.” replied Clint. “Really nice sweets.”

“Legendary sweets.” corrected Benny, eyes fixed on the bag.

Clint shared a glance with Frank. They dug out their _Magical Drafts and Potions_ followed by their apothecary kits. Benny got to work right away, crushing snake fangs. Clint tried to crush the fangs, he honestly did, but one sort of flew out and across the room.

“Shit.” hissed Clint.

Frank was trying, and failing, not to snicker.

“You hit Castiel in the head.”

Clint glanced over to see Castiel glaring at him, along with the rest of his table. Natasha looked unimpressed. Clint managed a weak smile. Benny sighed, loudly.

“Here, take one of mine. Go slower too. It’s not a race.”

Clint got to work again, going slower. He did eventually crush the snake fangs needed and added them to his cauldron. He heated the cauldron for a few seconds, removing it and leaving it to brew. He glanced at the clock and started writing the notes Slughorn had left on the board.

*

“By now, if you have brewed your potions correctly pink smoke should be rising.” said Slughorn.

Natasha glanced down at hers. Pink smoke was rising, but a little darker than it should be. Castiel’s was pink as was Laura’s. Steve’s was red but he squinted at it, as if that would somehow lighten the shade of the smoke. Sam sniffed.

“Where’s that smell coming from?”

The smell was awful and overpoweringly strong. Natasha spotted the source of it immediately. Clint was stood in front of a melted cauldron, staring at it in disbelief.

“Ah, what we have here,” said Slughorn, “is what happens when you add porcupine quills without taking the cauldron off the heat. Proof that one should always read the instructions!”

“It didn’t say that.” muttered Clint.

He said it quietly, but the classroom was quiet now the fires had been turned off and all students were paying attention. Slughorn bristled.

“I believe, Barton, it says there ‘remove cauldron from heat before adding quill of porcupine’. Do try and read things through.”

Clint flushed and his face grew sullen. Natasha glanced down at the writing. It was small and cramped. No wonder he’d missed a step. Frankly, only missing the one step was something he should be proud of, in Natasha’s opinion. She and Bobbi knew all about Clint’s difficulty with reading. Barney had done something with his books. She’d ask him about it at dinner. Slughorn had finished making his rounds while Natasha was lost in her thoughts.

“The winner of the Honeydukes bag is… Natasha Romanoff! Congratulations!”

The class clapped and Natasha took the bag with a smile. At dinner, Natasha loitered at the entrance from the greenhouses until she saw Clint and his friends. Clint’s smile widened when he saw Natasha.

“Hey, I’ll catch you up.”

Castle and Win-something shrugged and kept walking. Clint came over to her.

“Hey. I didn’t know you were waiting for me. We had Herbology, had to clean my hands.”

He wiggled his fingers at her, proving that they were indeed clean. Natasha rolled her eyes at him, but she did it with fondness.

“I wanted to talk about Potions.”

Clint’s face shuttered. “I don’t.”

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, Bobbi and I have told you this a hundred times.”

“It’s different in front of a class. Everyone laughed in primary school when I had to read out, they’ll laugh here.”

“What’s the spell Hansel did on your schoolbooks, to make them easier to read?”

Clint smiled. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you’re the pretty one. Bobbi and I are the clever ones.”

“If you say so.”

Natasha dug in her bag from Slughorn and held out a handful of tiny black sweets.

“Pepper Imps?”

Clint popped three in his mouth, lifted his head upwards, and breathed out. Natasha laughed as the tongue of flame shot over their heads.

“Thanks Nat.”

He kissed her cheek and wandered into the Great Hall. Natasha put the bag back into her schoolbag and headed in.

*

Clint barely had time to write to Hansel over the next couple of days. He shared Herbology with the Gryffindors. Frank was at his side, eying the plant in front of them warily. He’d been attacked by the Venomous Tentacula on the first day and was deeply suspicious of the greenhouses. Next to them was Dean and a tall boy with blond hair and bright blue eyes.

“Does anyone know what this plant is?” asked Professor Sprout.

Castiel lifted his hand. “It’s wolfsbane, Professor.”

“Correct. Five points to Hufflepuff. Now, anyone who can tell why this plant is called wolfsbane will earn twenty House points.”

Clint lifted his hand.

“Yes Mr Barton.”

“Muggles used to rub it on arrows when they hunted wolves.”

“Well done Mr Barton.” said Professor Sprout, looking pleased. “Twenty points to Hufflepuff.”

When she’d given them their instructions, repot the wolfsbane plants they had in front of them, the blond Gryffindor turned to Clint.

“How did you know that?”

“My family still uses it.”

“Mine too! Thor Odinson of the Asgard family.”

“Clint Barton.”

Thor gave him a broad smile. They got to work repotting. Dean took some of Frank’s off him because Mercy Lewis, he took forever. Frank scowled at the plants the whole time. When they’d trooped inside to wash their hands, Frank and Clint bid Dean and Thor goodbye. The Hufflepuffs went to Defence Against the Dark Arts and the Gryffindors trudged to History of Magic.

*

Flying was the class Bobbi was most looking forward to. She had been up to Underhill with Clint once and Adrianna had let her fly an old broom.

“I bet you’ve never even seen a real racing broom, have you Mudblood?” sneered Rosier, a deeply unpleasant Slytherin.

Bobbi told herself to ignore them. Rhodey, another Ravenclaw, glared at them.

“Don’t be disgusting.” said Tony.

“Nah, she hasn’t though, have you?” asked Rosier. “Mudbloods like you shouldn’t have been allowed into Hogwarts.”

“Does a Moontrimmer count?” replied Bobbi.

She had, briefly. Jem had let her sit on the back of his broom while Clint sat on the back of Barney’s Silver Arrow. Rosier paused, clearly surprised she knew a make of broom. Bobbi flicked her hair and turned to walk with Rhodey and Tony. They got to the courtyard, where the other Slytherins were already waiting. The Gryffindors were there too, both Houses glaring at each other. Benny jogged over, Dean in tow.

“Hey Bobbi. Looking forward to flying?”

“Definitely. I’ve flown once before but I wasn’t in control.”

“Who was?”

“Clint’s cousin.”

Clint had a ridiculous number of cousins. Bobbi had given up trying to work out how everyone was interconnected. To make matters worse, he referred to the oldest ones as ‘Aunt’ or ‘Uncle’. As she was about to ask the others if they’d ever flown, something jumped on her back.

“Clint Barton!” she shouted, turning to give him a shove.

“How did you know it was me?!”

“I wonder.” muttered Natasha.

She smiled at Bobbi before going to stand with Rogers. Bobbi rolled her eyes at Clint. Before Bobbi could say anything, their flying instructor arrived. She was a short woman with grey hair and yellow eyes, rather like Ronin’s.

“Well, stand by a broom!”

Bobbi hurried to a broom. Clint picked the one on her left and Benny the one on her right.

“Now hold your hand out and say up!”

Bobbi gave the broom a sceptical look. Clint was already doing it.

“Say it confidently.” advised Benny. “Like this. Up!”

With that, the broom jumped into his hand. Bobbi took a deep breath and held her hand out.

“Up!”

The broom lifted itself off the ground, then flopped back down. On the fourth attempt, the broom finally jumped into her hand. Clint grinned at her.

“Nice one!”

“Now, put your leg over the broom, like this.”

Bobbi did so, glancing at how Benny had his hands. She copied him, adjusting her grip. Their flight instructor, who had introduced herself as Madam Hooch, walked down the line, correcting them. When she approved, she gave the order for them to kick off. Bobbi hovered a few feet above the ground and beamed over at Clint.

“Now, try flying slightly higher.”

They practiced flying around the courtyard in small circles for an hour before Madam Hooch told them the lesson was over.


	16. Quidditch Match

** 20th October 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15 **

 

Gadreel sat down at the highest point in the Quidditch stands. He was bundled into a jumper and gloves. It had been a warm autumn so far, unusually so for Scotland, but now the cold was making itself known. With a vengeance.

“Can we sit with you?” asked a voice.

Gadreel turned to see a mini-Aaron stood in front of him, accompanied by a blonde girl and a pair of brunet boys. He’d met Clint once or twice at the station and in the common room when Aaron tried to convince him or Jason to do his homework for him.

“Of course. First Quidditch match?”

Clint nodded and sat down. He was wearing a Hufflepuff jumper that was too big for him, so he had pulled the front down over his hands.

“This is Bobbi, Frank, and Benny.”

All three chorused their hellos. Gadreel knew Frank from the common rooms as well, but only as ‘Aaron’s cousin’s friend’.

“Where are Dean and Thor?” asked Frank.

“Supporting _Gryffindor_.” said Clint, his lip curling.

“How dare they support their own House?” asked Bobbi, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Clint ignored the sarcasm completely. Frank and Bobbi asked questions about Quidditch, including which team Clint and Benny supported. Gadreel was unsurprised to hear that Clint supported Montrose Magpies. Aaron did too, his wall in the dorm had a huge poster of the current team. Gadreel was fairly sure Aaron had cried when Fabius Watkins, Magpies captain and Chaser, had died.

“What about you? What team do you support?” asked Bobbi.

“Ballycastle Bats.” replied Gadreel.

It was his small rebellion in a family of Portree supporters. It was practically insignificant but Gadreel still felt smug when Portree lost to the Bats. The game was about to begin. Gadreel could see Aaron and Jem, both swinging their Beater’s bats lazily. Jason was double-checking his chest guard. Luke Cage, the captain, was shaking hands with the Gryffindor captain, Danny Rand.

“Come on Badgers!” shouted Clint.

Bobbi elbowed him for yelling. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the players kicked off the dirt. Rand got the Quaffle first and sped towards Jason. Jem or Aaron, it was hard to tell them apart from a distance, sent a Bludger towards Rand. Rand rolled his broom, going upside down. He resurfaced and hurled it at the hoop. Jason caught it and threw it back to Cage.

“YES JASON!” bellowed Clint.

As the game carried on, the Bludger going back towards the Gryffindor Keeper, Gadreel noticed Bobbi shivering.

“Are you cold?”

“Freezing. I didn’t realise how cold it was.”

Gadreel pulled his jumper off and handed it to her.

“Here, you can wear mine. I’m not that cold.”

Bobbi gave him a look of undying gratitude and hurriedly dragged it on. Gadreel was left in a thin shirt and a pair of gloves. It was another small rebellion, wearing the Muggle clothes Aaron got him. This T-shirt was dark green and Gadreel’s current favourite. He could feel the goosebumps starting to appear.

“Do you want your jumper back?”

“No, it’s alright.”

 Bobbi looked pleased and snuggled even further in. It was far too big for her, much like Clint’s jumper. He’d probably been given it by Aaron or Jem. As Gadreel turned his attention back to the game, a heavy bulk settled down next to him. Gadreel turned and was met with a pair of blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes, the kind that you could stare into for hours. Like Gadreel was currently doing. He blinked and pulled back. The beautiful blue eyes were attached to an equally beautiful freckled face and ginger hair kept short.

“Oh shit.”

“Ugly fucker, ain’t he?” asked Clint.

“What, no I didn’t- I mean- I did- You startled me.”

Great, now Gadreel’s face felt like it was on fire. Barney just laughed, like Gadreel hadn’t just sworn in front of his precious brother.

“I heard that, Clint.”

“Hansel says it.”

“All the more reason _not_ to say it.”

Gadreel heard Clint’s loud sigh. The three first-years returned to watching the match, as did Barney. It gave Gadreel the chance to take a few deep breaths and sneak a few glances at Barney. Merlin, it was hard enough having a crush on a popular Quidditch player, it was hell on Earth when he sat next to you. Especially when he was wearing a Hufflepuff scarf under his leather jacket. Gadreel felt himself starting to shiver.

“100-30 to Hufflepuff!”

“YOU CAN DO IT JASON!”

“Mercy Lewis.” muttered Barney. “He must be part-banshee.”

Gadreel laughed. Then he clapped his hand over his mouth. Barney looked pleased though, grinning over at Gadreel. Then his expression sobered.

“Hey, are you cold?”

“No.”

“You’re shivering.”

“I do that. It’s a… muscle exercise.”

Barney’s eyebrows were climbing to his hairline. Gadreel turned back to the match. The next thing he knew, something was being draped around his shoulders. Gadreel glanced over at Barney, now jacketless.

“Zip it up, it’ll help keep the heat in.”

“But you’ll be cold.”

Barney laughed. “I run hot.”

Gadreel slipped his arms into the jacket and pulled it close. It was a little big, since Barney had filled out even more over the summer. The jacket smelled of broom wax, heather, and the aftershave Barney used. It was a good smell. Clint let out a horrific shriek as Jason saved a goal.

“Is he like this at home?”

“You have no idea.” replied Barney. “The minute I learn the Silencing Charm, I’m using it on him.”

Gadreel laughed again. Barney turned his attention back to the game. He was much quieter than his brother while watching, only speaking when Gryffindor scored. Then he swore. Clint yelled at everything.

“GET HIM IN THE BALLS JEM!”

“Going a little far there, kid.” said Barney.

He was smiling despite it. He’d relaxed throughout the game, leaning partly against Gadreel. Gadreel was trying very hard not to lean in as well.

“He hexed me!”

“He what?”

“He did that Knee-Reversal Hex on me.”

Bobbi chimed in, “We were on the stairs. Clint fell down them.”

“Bobbi!” hissed Clint.

Barney said nothing but he sat up straight, taking his warmth off Gadreel. He was tense now, jaw tight and hands laced.

“Don’t do nothin’ stupid Barney.” said Clint, his accent thickening.

“I’m never stupid.” replied Barney icily. “Excuse me.”

With that he left. Gadreel glanced at Clint. Clint ran a hand over his head.

“Thanks for that Birdie.”

“He was going to find out eventually.”

“Yeah I know.”

The game finished twenty minutes later, when McKinnon caught the Snitch. Gryffindor won 250-160.

*

Clint was heading to the Great Hall after Herbology when he heard the shouting. Curiosity won out in the end and he headed to the source. He skidded to a stop, causing Thor to smash into his back.

“Why have you stopped?”

Clint watched in wordless horror as the Gryffindor Black slammed Jem against the wall. Jem snarled, bringing his head forward and connecting with Black’s face. Black stumbled back. He swung a wild punch towards Jem, who blocked it and drove his knee into Black’s private area.

“Sirius!” somebody shouted.

Black’s friend, Potty or Potter or something, shoved past Clint and grabbed at Jem. Jem elbowed him and lunged for Black again. The other two Gryffindors, Lupin and Pettigrew, hung back, mouths open. Just as Clint thought it couldn’t get worse, Jem scrapping with two Gryffindors, someone else joined in. It took Clint a minute to distinguish which cousin it was and then he wished he hadn’t. Chick. Chick who used hexes the same way Jem used his fists. Recklessly and frequently.

He slammed into Potter, throwing him to the floor. The two of them began wrestling, Chick raining blows down on Potter’s face.

“James!”

“Hey!” shouted Jem, hauling Black back by his shirt.

He drove a fist into Black’s kidney, and then kicked the back of his knee. Clint found himself wincing in sympathy. Even if it was Black. Potter had briefly gotten the better of Chick evidently. He was now on his feet, nose definitely broken and blood decorating his face. His broken glasses were on the floor.

Chick lunged at him again. He grabbed Potter’s head, hit it against the wall, and brought it down on his knee again and again. Potter’s fists hit Chick a few times but to no great effect. Jem and Black were still scrapping. Chick did some move too quick for Clint to catch and then Potter was on his knees, Chick’s forearm across his neck. Potter’s hands scrabbled at Chick. Clint felt Thor get ready to intervene.

“ENOUGH!” thundered a voice.

The crowd was already parting to let someone through. Relief washed over Clint as he recognised Barney. Chick didn’t loosen his arm but Jem and Black did stop. There didn’t seem to be a clear winner. Black had two black eyes, and from the way he was holding himself, Clint would guess at a few broken ribs. Chick had obviously kicked the crap out of Potter.

“Let him go.” said Barney, voice quieter. “Now.”

Jem stepped away from Black, swiping at the blood on his face. He had a few bruises and his arm looked broken. Barney turned steel eyes on Chick.

“Let. Him. Go. I won’t repeat myself.”

There was a long pause where Clint though Chick might continue until Potter passed out. But then, he stepped away, laughing.

“No respect for anyone those two. We did the firsties a favour.”

Barney’s eyes flickered to Black and then to Clint. His face didn’t change but Clint could see it. He was _pleased._ Jem spat at Black’s feet.

“Go to the hospital wing.” ordered Barney. “Now.”

Jem limped away, followed by Chick. Black helped Potter up and, with Pettigrew, they headed the same way. Barney came over to Clint, ruffling his hair.

“You alright, kid?”

“I’m fine. What was that about?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re pleased.”

“Black’s an asshole.” replied Barney.

Lupin squared his shoulders. “I should dock points.”

“Then dock points from the shitheads that hex first-years.”

Barney’s tone was still cold. He grinned at Clint before loping off the way Jem and Chick had gone. Clint shook his head. He knew he shouldn’t have let Barney find out. Thor wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they headed to the Great Hall.

“Your cousins, they are always like this?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“It’s good, to have family that loves you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha, I thought this fic would only be like 20 chapters. I was wrong. Very wrong. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this and let me know!


	17. Fight Fight Fight

** 27th November 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15 **

 

Clint lowered his bow with a smirk. He and Barney were practising at the back of Hagrid’s hut. With Hagrid’s permission, they’d set up a mini archery range there where Clint could practise with his recurve bow and Barney with a crossbow. Fang was there, huddled against Bluebell Flames Clint had created. Every one of his arrows was either in the gold or the ring just outside.

“Don’t get cocky.” said Barney. “Come on, pack up.”

Once they’d packed up, they headed back to the castle. They split up in the courtyard, Barney going to join his friends in the courtyard and Clint going to find his own inside the castle. He found Bobbi outside the Great Hall, her arms folded as she glared at Rumlow and Rosier.

“Get out of my way assholes.”

“Nah,” said Rosier, “don’t think we will.”

Rumlow grinned nastily. “We don’t want to eat with your kind of people, see?”

“People’s putting it strongly.”

Clint came up to Bobbi’s side.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to get into the damn Hall but they won’t move.”

“It’s bad enough we have to share classes with your kind.” sneered Rosier.

“What do you mean by ‘your kind’?” asked Clint, hand closing into a fist.

Rumlow answered, “Mudbloods.”

So Clint punched him.

*

In hindsight, Clint really should have checked Bobbi didn’t mind him punching someone for her. Clint’s first punch had the element of surprise and Rumlow staggered to the side. Rosier shouted and moved towards him. Bobbi already had her wand out. She cast the Jelly-Legs Jinx and Rosier stumbled to the side. He still managed to get his wand out as Rumlow came surging back with a punch to Clint’s gut. Clint grunted but brought his knee up into Rumlow’s privates.

“Diffindo!”

Hot pain sliced across Clint’s side in thin lines. Rumlow punched him in the chest, catching the edge of one of the lines. Clint howled and slammed his head into Rumlow’s face. Rumlow staggered back, holding his face. Clint took the opportunity to copy Aaron’s punching bag technique, keeping his thumb on the outside of his fists and slamming his fists into Rumlow’s ribs again and again. Rumlow managed to shove him back and a heavy hand landed on the back of his neck.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Clint looked up to see Professor McGonagall glaring down at him.

“My office, all of you. Now.”

Clint looked over to see Bobbi had Rosier in a headlock. She let him go and stepped away, scowling. She had a bloody nose and her hair was falling out of its ponytail. They endured the walk in silence, finally stopping in her office. McGonagall sat down at her desk, looking between the four of them.

“Would someone care to explain what is going on? Miss Morse, this behaviour is not what I expected of you.”

Bobbi didn’t even look at Clint as she started talking.

“I was trying to go into the Great Hall but Rumlow and Rosier wouldn’t let me. They said they didn’t want to eat in the same room as me.”

“And where did Mr Barton come into it?”

“They called her a mudblood, Professor!” said Clint.

“So Clint punched Rumlow.” finished Bobbi.

McGonagall gave Clint a detention and took ten points from Hufflepuff before sending them both to the hospital wing for Madam Pomfrey to check them.

“Sorry Bobbi.” said Clint as they waited for Madam Pomfrey. “I should have let you handle it.”

“Yeah, you should have.” agreed Bobbi. “But thanks for being on my side.”

“Next time I’ll only punch them if you give me the signal.”

“The signal?”

“Yeah. Like a wink or something.”

“Or something like saying ‘hey Clint, punch them’?”

“That would work.”

Bobbi smiled. They sat in silence as she tried to unstick her hair from the dried blood on her face. Madam Pomfrey eventually came over, ready to assess them. Clint had to lift his shirt where Rosier had hit him with the Severing Charm and honestly, how did he even know that? Madam Pomfrey healed them instantly

“They shouldn’t scar but you seem to have plenty of those already.”

Clint flushed, his kneejerk reaction to his scars being pointed out. In America it had usually led to some form of concerned questioning by a teacher and yelling at home. Madam Pomfrey moved on to Bobbi, cleaning the cut on her face and washing the blood off. The two of them left as Rosier and Rumlow came in.

“Assholes.” muttered Clint when they’d gone.

“Too right.” said Bobbi. “Come on. Let’s eat.”

Clint followed her. They hung out together in the library afterwards, trying not to get caught talking by Madam Pince. It felt like it had been years since just the two of them had spent time together. At Hogwarts, they were always with Frank, Thor, Dean, and Benny, and over summer Barney had been with them every day and Natasha almost every day.

“Remember that time you threw pudding at Charles Crawford because he made fun of your pigtails?” asked Clint.

“Yes!” laughed Bobbi. “Oh, my mum tried so hard to be mad with me.”

They did eventually get kicked out by Madam Pince and had to finally go to their own common rooms.

“See you tomorrow.” said Bobbi. “Oh, will you check my Charms homework at lunch?”

“Yeah, of course. See you tomorrow.”

Bobbi disappeared up the stairs towards Ravenclaw Tower and Clint went to the Hufflepuff common room. When he got there, he discovered Barney lurking outside.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you. Heard you got in a fight.”

“They deserved it. They called Bobbi the M-word.”

Barney whistled. “Fuck Rosier. And Rumlow.”

“You knew?”

“They came into the common room whining. McGonagall docked them fifty points each and they have three detentions.”

“She docked me ten. And I have a detention next Friday.”

Barney groaned. “You mean next Friday when you were supposed to come to that stupid party with me?”

Clint felt his face fall. He’d been looking forward to the Snail Club party with Barney. Mostly for the free food. And also because Barney was going to wear a suit and horrify the stuffy old wizards. Which Clint always approved of.

“Maybe she’ll let me change it?”

“There is no way in hell McGonagall is going to change that detention. I’ll find someone else to come with me and make fun of all the shitty pastries.”

“What about that Miles guy in Ravenclaw? You fancy him.”

Barney’s face flushed bright red.

“Shut up Clint.”

“Dyer’s Twelve, you really do fancy him!! I was joking!”

Barney squirmed under his younger brother’s enthusiasm.

“You should be more interested in the fact that Rumlow had three cracked ribs and Rosier had a broken nose.”

“Bobbi broke Rosier’s nose?!”

“ _Bobbi_ did that? Holy shit. I love her.”

Clint grinned. “I know, right? I’m fine anyway, thanks for asking.”

“Tell Bobbi if she has a problem with the Slytherins, I’ll talk to them for her.”

“Or Chick.”

Barney laughed. “Maybe not. I don’t want them cut into tiny pieces. Anyway, I’m going to go.”

“And ask Ash Miles out?”

“No.”

Barney pushed himself off the wall and began walking away. Clint cupped his hands round his mouth.

“I know you stare at his ass!”

Barney stuck his middle finger up as he disappeared from sight. Clint laughed and ducked into the common room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took way longer than it should have done to write...  
> In my defence I did just move halfway across the world and I've been settling into my new job. Hopefully I'll be able to write on Saturdays and post on Sundays. Hopefully. Don't quote me on that. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a review or kudos!


	18. Staying at Friends'

** 21st December 1975- Clint: 11, Barney: 15 **

 

Barney rolled his shoulders as he walked up the path to the Novaks’ house. Well, he used the term ‘house’ loosely. It was more like a manor, right down to the sweeping gravel path and perfectly manicured lawn. Jem and Aaron, loping next to him, looked like they were here to rob the place. Though, Barney probably didn’t look much better. All of them were in Muggle clothes, Jem in a leather jacket, Aaron in a hoodie, Barney in a check shirt. They would probably be the only ones in Muggle clothes, from what Gabriel said about the Novaks.

“Couldn’t Dad have Apparated us in a little closer?” complained Jem.

“I think they have wards.” replied Barney.

“Yeah but you could have thrown up on the grass.”

“Right. What a great way to introduce myself to one of my best friend’s parents. Vomiting on their lawn.”

“I think this goes past a lawn. It’s like grounds or some shit.”

Barney laughed. The manor had polished stone pillars flanking the front steps. The door itself had a knocker in the shape of a pair of wings. Aaron reached out and rapped the knocker once. Jem rolled his eyes.

“They’ll never hear that.”

As Jem reached for the knocker, Barney said, “Don’t…”

_BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!_

“Slam it.” finished Barney with a sigh. “Well, they definitely know we’re here now.”

Jem rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that the whole point? We can’t stay over if they don’t know we’re here.”

The door creaked open, a stern-faced woman answering. Her mouth was a thin line, her hair dragged back in a clip and she had robes on. In short, she was exactly the opposite of every Moody woman. Which was probably a good thing when it came to Aunt Miriam.

“Hello? I’m Barney Barton, this is Jem and Aaron Moody. We’re friends of Gabriel and Gadreel. We’re expected?”

The woman smiled. “Of course, come on in. I’m Naomi Novak, Gabriel’s mother.”

Barney shuffled in, wiping his feet four times on the mat. Just in case. Aaron copied him. The hall had a painting of the manor, with the trees swaying slightly in a silent breeze.

“I’ll call the boys and they can show you to your rooms before dinner.”

Naomi swept up the stairs, leaving the three boys awkwardly hovering. Aaron checked his watch.

“Little late for diner isn’t it? It’s like six o’clock.”

“Southerners.” replied Jem. “They say dinner instead of tea.”

“That’s just weird.”

Barney, as an American, had no stake in the dinner-tea debate and was more interested in the décor. There were little gold details on most of the furniture, even the umbrella stand. Somehow it came off as elegant instead of tacky. Gabriel appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Moodys!” he called, racing down.

He high-fived Barney and Jem and ignored Aaron almost completely. Aaron didn’t seem to mind, craning his neck to peer up the stairs.

“Come on, I’ll show you your rooms.”

“Where’s Gad?” asked Aaron.

“On his way.” said Gabriel, already heading up the stairs. “He’ll show you to yours.”

They were made of smooth marble and Barney already had visions of Aaron or Jem slipping down them. Gabriel turned right at the top of the stairs and walked even further. The portraits on the walls sneered down at them. Gabriel stopped at a pair of rooms.

“OK, these are yours. There’s a bathroom in there, connected to both of them. So…”

Barney unpacked in a few minutes since all he had was a backpack. Trick had been left in Manchester but was coming up to Underhill with Uncle Alastor and Clint. Who was also bringing the damn bird. Even Jem was done in fifteen. They followed Gabriel back to the top of the stairs.

“Hungry?” asked Gabriel as Jem’s stomach growled.

“Fucking starving.”

“Mother doesn’t like swearing.” said a voice by Barney’s elbow.

Barney jumped, startled by the sudden voice. Looking down, the speaker was Castiel, Gabriel’s youngest brother.

“What Mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her, Castiel.” said Gabriel sternly.

Castiel looked unconvinced but said nothing else. Barney followed the Novaks, raising his eyebrows at Jem. Jem pulled a face. By the time they got down there, Aaron had disappeared. Barney deeply hoped he’d gone with Gadreel and not to fuck with something expensive and irreplaceable.

“Please, sit down.” said Gabriel as he walked into the dining room.

Barney glanced at Jem. The dining room was austere and dark, all the furniture made of dark wood. There was a fireplace behind the head of the table’s seat.

“Should we sit anywhere in particular?” asked Barney.

The Moodys only had designated seats when they were being formal, at Christmas and New Year’s Day dinner or actual meetings.

“Sit anywhere. Except the ends of the table.”

“Gabriel.” said Naomi’s voice. “Is that any way to instruct a guest? Bernard will think we’re being rude.”

“Oh, no ma’am I don’t- do not think that at all.” said Barney. “And honestly, you can call me Barney.”

“Nonsense. Bernard is the name your parents gave you.”

‘You little shit’ was the more common name he’d been given but Barney saw no reason to point that out. It was annoying that she knew his name was Bernard but as long as she didn’t call him Charles, everything was fine. Seeing Jem addressed as James though, Barney _couldn’t wait_.

“Sit down in age order, that’s how we do it in this household.”

Naomi sat at the end of the table furthest from the fireplace.

“Castiel, go and fetch your father.”

“Yes Mother.”

Castiel trotted off, leaving Jem to smugly take the seat at the top of the table. He was a whole five months older than Barney, something that never failed to irritate Barney and delight Jem. Aaron and Gadreel eventually appeared, both of them smiling. Gadreel’s smile disappeared when he saw Barney and Jem. That was fair enough. If Barney had to share a common room with Jem, he probably wouldn’t be thrilled.

“Don’t just stand there, Gadreel. Sit down. My eldest sons aren’t here tonight, unfortunately.”

Aaron flopped into the seat next to Barney with all of his usual grace. Which was none.

“Oh, where’s Lucifer?” asked Barney.

“You know Lucifer?” asked Castiel, who’d reappeared without his father.

“He’s in my House. And he’s my cousin’s friend. That’s Chick.” said Barney, adding the last part for Naomi.

“Ah yes, I believe they’re both coming here the day after tomorrow.” replied Naomi.

Aaron whined, “ _Chick’s_ gonna be here? Ow!”

The ‘Ow!’ was because Barney kicked him under the table. Hard. In the shins. Aaron sent him a resentful glare. Naomi looked confused but instead turned to Castiel, demanding to know where his father was. Apparently in his study and about to come out.

“I can’t believe you believed that. Honestly Castiel.”

Naomi rose to her feet, determinedly heading in the direction Castiel had gone. Barney waited until he was sure she was gone before speaking.

“She’s not going to call me Bernard all weekend, is she?”

Gabriel gave him a deeply sympathetic look.

“Sorry.”

Barney refrained from swearing but considering the fact that even Gadreel laughed, he was pretty sure his face said it all. Naomi returned with a shabby-looking man with a messy beard and dark wavy hair. That was clearly where Castiel had got it from. Barney rose to his feet, copied a split-second later by Aaron and, after a nudge, by Jem.

“Nice to meet you sir.”

“Oh please. Call me Chuck.”

“ _Charles_.” said Naomi.

“Darling, Aaron seems to be practically Gadreel’s brother. I feel Chuck is allowable. And it seems unfair to force the other two lads to call me Charles.”

“And you hate the name.” said Gabriel, smiling.

Chuck smiled. “And there is that.”

Naomi huffed out an impatient sigh. Barney was beginning to think she got impatient a lot. They sat down and three house-elves began trotting food out.

“Michael and Luci not coming?” asked Chuck.

Barney only half-heard him, watching in vague amazement as the house-elves brought out a mountain of mashed potatoes, plates with beef on, and half a farm’s worth of vegetables.

“They’re both coming tomorrow.” replied Naomi. “I told you this.”

Chuck shrugged, already beginning to pile food on his plate. Barney had never met Michael, he’d left Hogwarts the year before Barney had joined. The silence at the table grew, leaving Barney awkwardly avoiding eye contact with Gadreel.

*

Once the awkward dinner was over and the house-elves were clearing the plates away, Gabriel spoke.

“I’ll show you to the billiard room.”

As Barney followed Gabriel, he heard Jem mutter, “The fuck’s a billiard?”

The answer turned out to be pool but for posh people. Aaron, living with his seventy-year-old pure-blood grandfather, had never even seen a pool table before. Jem had but only in the Muggle movies his dad liked to watch. Gabriel, on hearing all of this, looked to Barney.

“You’ve played pool, right? You’re American, you must have done.”

“It’s been a while.”

There had been a youth centre or a community club or something where Barney grew up. It had a TV, a pool table, and a bar to buy Cokes and crisps. Barney had started sneaking in when he was eleven. His dad had found him when he was twelve. Barney had stopped going after that.

“I thought your family didn’t like Muggle shit.” said Jem. “That’s why you’re always wearing robes.”

“Mother doesn’t come in this room.” said Gabriel. “So we can have whatever we want in here.”

That was obvious. Aside from the pool table, there was also table-soccer, a dartboard pinned to the door, and a pinball machine.

“Did you rob an arcade?” asked Aaron.

“Father likes Muggle things. His friend got them for him.” said Castiel from somewhere around Barney’s elbow.

“Why don’t you go read a book, Cassie?” asked Gabriel. “We’re playing pool.”

Castiel scowled. “Mother wants me to stay with you. To… network.”

“She realises we’re a dumbass, a jock, and a thug, right?” asked Barney. “It’s not who I’d choose to network with.”

“Which one am I?” asked Aaron.

“That question answers itself.” said Gadreel.

 Aaron promptly punched Gadreel in the arm. While they were wrestling, Gabriel was talking Jem through the finer points of pool.

“Hey Cassie,” said Barney, “teach me how to use this table soccer thing, yeah?”

“Alright.”

Jem called over from the pool table, “What’s Clint doing this weekend?”

“Honestly, I try not to think about Clint’s doing.”

*

Clint was going to buy his bodyweight in fudge. He, Bobbi, and Natasha were at the German Christmas markets with Will and Ben. Bobbi, an expert on the Christmas markets, had promptly dragged them away from the largest market.

“You don’t want to go there.”

“I really do.” replied Will. “I just saw the hotdogs they sell.”

“German sausages.” corrected Ben. “They get annoyed when you call them hotdogs.”

“Come _on_.”

Bobbi led them around the market and into a little side street. The side street opened into a square as well, with stalls that smelled divine and a fudge stand that seemed a mile long. There was also a bar with tables next to a bronze statue. Clint could feel his jaw dropping.

“Nat, get a bag.” said Clint. “We’re having a party tonight.”

Natasha grabbed a striped bag and the three of them began filling it. There were dozens of flavours, some Clint hadn’t even thought of, like rum and raisin. Baileys! Orange! The Muggle world was a marvel. Once they’d filled the bag to bursting, they approached the seller. The man gave them a smile. His apron matched the bags.

“Sure you’ve got enough there?”

“We think so.” said Natasha solemnly.

The man weighed the fudge and gave them the price. Clint dug through his pockets, finally landing on the wallet Jason had given him for his last birthday. He proudly presented the ten-pound note to the seller. The man took it and gave them back a miniscule amount of change. Bobbi then dragged them over to the pancake stand.

“Wait, where did Will go?” asked Clint.

“Over there somewhere. Do you want Nutella? I’m getting Nutella.”

“If he can’t find me, he’ll get Uncle Alastor.”

“Oh Merlin.” said Natasha. “Quick, find him.”

Clint considered climbing up the statue towards the back of the square but he had a feeling that would get him into even more trouble. Instead he slipped out of the crowd and found Ben and Will by the fudge stand.

“Keep up!” he shouted, before disappearing back into the throng.

They caught up to the trio just as Natasha was ordering a strawberry pancake.

“That’ll be £3.50, please.” said the woman taking the money.

Natasha attempted to hand over coins Clint didn’t recognise. The woman’s mouth narrowed.

“Are those kroner?” asked Bobbi.

“Yes.”

“You can’t use kroner in England, did your dad give you that?”

“Yes.”

Ben intervened. “She’s new to England, just got her papers to come over. This is the most expensive thing she’s even eaten.”

The woman relaxed a little at that.

“Oh, the poor dear. She can have that one for free.”

Natasha opened her mouth, probably to protest, but Ben dragged her and Bobbi away before she could say anything. Clint ordered his own pancake, as did Will, and they caught up with them in the bar. Ben had ordered two pints, one for himself and one for Will.

“Alright, how much fudge did you buy?” asked Will.

Clint presented the bag.

“Merlin.”

“Jesus. They’re staying at yours, right?”

Will looked deeply reluctant but agreed. They started eating their pancakes.

“You can’t use kroner here.”

“But Papa said it can be used in any decent country.”

“Not quite.” replied Ben. “Just… don’t use it.”

“But then I haven’t got any money.”

“I’ll pay for you.” said Clint.

Natasha smiled. Once they’d eaten the pancakes, it was onto the other markets. Clint began to hunt down something for Uncle Alastor. He was the worst person to buy for, since if it couldn’t detect Dark magic, he wasn’t interested. He didn’t even watch Quidditch.

“What about this?” asked Natasha.

“It’s a walking stick.”

“Really, I thought it was a dog.” she replied, deadpan.

Clint stuck his tongue out at her. Bobbi was investigating the jewellery stall opposite for something for her mom.

“He’s got a fake leg now, doesn’t he? He could use the walking stick to lean on.”

“You’re a genius, I’ll never doubt you again.” replied Clint.

He immediately dived into the collection of walking sticks, looking for the right one. He eventually found it, made of dark wood with an owl’s head carved into the top.

“Perfect.”

Once they’d explored thoroughly explored all five markets, Will took them into a side street and Apparated home. Clint shuddered when they landed. He wasn’t a fan of the sensation but unlike some people ~~(Barney)~~ , he was perfectly capable of landing without emptying his stomach. Ben bid them goodbye and headed off. Once inside with the various security charms and devices disabled, Will set them up with a video and disappeared to the kitchen to work.

“Hey, I can fit three pieces of fudge in my mouth.” said Natasha.

“Bet you can’t fit four.” said Bobbi.

“I can fit five.” she replied, reaching for the bag.

From the kitchen, Clint heard Will groan loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow this took so long to write, I am so sorry. Turns out it's hard to write seasonal stuff when it isn't the season. Anyway, enjoy, leave kudos or a review! :D


	19. Mary MacDonald

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was only filler, how did it end up like this? It was only filler, it was only filler.

** 16th January 1976: Clint- 12, Barney- 15 **

 

“So you could visit mine at Easter?” asked Frank.

“Yeah. I mean, I’d have to ask Uncle Alastor and the Old Man would probably want to do a background check or something, but I don’t think Uncle Alastor would have a problem.” replied Clint.

He, Benny, and Frank were currently heading towards the library to deal with the mountain of homework the professors had set them. Clint was already trying to work out how to get Benny to do his History of Magic essay for him.

“Who’s the Old Man?” asked Benny.

“My great-granddad.”

“Why not just call him Granddad?”

“That’s my dad’s dad. Gramps is my mom’s dad.”

“Your family is so confusing.” replied Frank.

He was an only child of only children, with no cousins at all. Clint couldn’t imagine how quiet his house must be during the holidays.

“Oh, you could come to Underhill in the second week. It’s great, we can swim in the lake and fly, and there’s this forest you can explore.”

“Easter isn’t for another-”

Benny’s protest was interrupted by a scream. The three boys took off in the direction of the scream, heading down a rarely-used corridor. There were two boys huddled around the smaller figure of a Gryffindor girl Clint didn’t know.

“Hey!” shouted Frank.

The boys turned and Clint felt his stomach turn to ice. He vaguely recognised the shorter boy from Quidditch matches, Mullet or something. The other boy was Chick. He currently had blood on his right hand. Clint looked to the girl. She was older than him, maybe third or fourth year. Blood had mingled with her blonde hair from an injury he couldn’t see. She was holding her head in both hands and sobbing.

“Leave her alone, Chick, come on.” said Clint in his nicest tone of voice.

Yelling at Chick never had an effect. He still killed cats that wandered across the farm and the village dogs, despite the Old Man’s constant warnings.

“She’s a soft target Chick, what are you proving here?” he asked.

“She’s a fucking Mudblood.” spat Mullet.

Maybe if he hadn’t been there, Clint would have been able to talk Chick down. Maybe if Clint had been on his own, Mullet would have attacked him and Chick would have felt honour-bound to defend his family. Maybe. Instead Frank balled his fists up.

“Fuck you!”

Benny went to the crying girl. He gently pulled her hand down from her face. Clint still couldn’t what had caused the bleeding.

“I think you should go to the hospital wing. That’s a lot of blood.”

“We’re not done with her.” snapped Chick.

Benny held the girl’s hand as he began to urge her away. Frank stood between Mullet and her. Chick stormed over, wand sliding into his hand. Clint caught his arm.

“Chick, don-”

Clint was cut off when Chick grabbed his arm and slammed his head into the stone wall. The world turned black in front of his eyes. He managed to blink it back to see Frank tackle Mullet to the ground. Clearly whatever skill he had at curses did not translate to Muggle fighting. He fell on his back as Frank punched his face. Repeatedly. Chick was still heading towards the girl and Benny. So Clint pulled his own wand.

“Tarantallegra!”

He thought he shouted but only a whisper came out. The jinx hit Chick, slowing him down as his legs thrashed uncontrollably. It only slowed him for a second, if that, as Chick then flicked his wand, stilling his legs. He changed direction, heading towards Clint with murder on his face. He stopped suddenly, tilting his head like a bird dog. Then he ran in the direction Clint, Frank, and Benny had come from.

A hand touched Clint’s shoulder making him jump and point his wand up towards the person. Gadreel lifted his hands, looking alarmed. Jason and Aaron were next to him. Clint lowered his wand and apologised. He was still whispering.

“Sorry.”

That was better. Gadreel glanced at Aaron who frowned back. Jason went to help the Gryffindor girl. Aaron hauled Frank off Mullet and gestured wildly. They began to make their very slow way to the hospital wing, excluding Mullet who they left bleeding on the ground. Gadreel stayed next to Clint. He probably had bruises forming from the whole being slammed into a wall thing. When they got to the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey gasped. The girl was whisked away first, taken to behind closed curtains. Aaron, without asking, picked Clint up and dropped him on a hospital bed.

“’M _fine_ Aaron.”

In response, Aaron rolled his eyes. Clint scowled at him. His head hurt like hell, that much was true, and he did feel like being sick. But he would resist. Throwing up wouldn’t help his case. At some point, Gadreel disappeared. Jason came over as Aaron went to talk to Frank and Benny.

“Hey. You feeling OK?”

Clint blinked at him. Jason opened his mouth to repeat the question.

“Yeah! I’m good.”

“Your ear’s bleeding.”

Clint lifted his hand to his ear. He could feel the heat before he actually made contact with the skin. He hissed as he did so, pain radiating from where he touched. When he looked at his fingers, there was blood on them.

“Oh. My head hurts.”

“I bet.” replied Jason.

Clint leaned his head forwards, balancing it on Jason’s chest. There was a slight pause before Jason’s hand came up to pat his back. It was a little too tentative, too unsure. Which was fair enough because Jason had never had to deal with an injured Clint before. Apart from the occasional bruise from walking into a tree at Underhill. Clint lifted his head, about to ask if he could go find Barney, when the hospital doors burst open. Everything still sounded like it was underwater, but even Clint heard the bang they made. Barney came flying through, hair sticking out in all directions, still in his Quidditch gear.

“Clint!”

He ran over, Jason stepping aside. Clint barely even noticed Gadreel slipping back in and quietly closing the doors. Barney caught the uninjured side of Clint’s head, expertly tilting his head back so he could get a better look at the injury.

“Hey chickenbutt.”

“Your hand’s sweaty.”

“I was at Quidditch, we’re gonna clean some of this blood off, OK? Get a better look at what’s going on.”

Barney was speaking slower than usual but Clint was grateful. Thinking was hard.

“I feel sick.”

Barney said something over his shoulder. A bowl appeared moments later. Clint took it, balancing it on his lap. Arguing with Barney was pointless, he just pulled the big brother card. He did let go of Clint’s head eventually, when Madam Pomfrey came over. The two of them talked too quickly and quietly for Clint to follow.

“Clint, show Madam Pomfrey your ear.”

Clint obediently tilted his head. Someone started cleaning the blood off his ear, making him suck in a breath. Barney caught his head with one hand.

“Easy. What’s tougher than a Barton boy?”

Clint blinked.

“Two Barton boys.”

“That’s right. Deep breaths.”

“Hurts.”

“I know. We’re being as gentle as we can. Stay still for me.”

So Clint did. His ear had stopped throbbing but a headache was now forming on the left side of his head. Barney tapped the middle of Clint’s forehead, catching his attention effortlessly.

“Hey.”

“Listen. You have a concussion, OK?”

“OK.”

“Madam Pomfrey’s gonna give you a potion and you’re going to drink it all.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Don’t care.”

Clint reluctantly drank the too-sweet potion, grimacing as it left a film on his tongue and teeth. Barney pulled a face in sympathy. He felt lopsided, as if his ear had actually been cut off instead of just hurt. He wanted to inform Barney of this fact but his tongue felt too heavy.

Then he was resting his entire upper body in Barney’s sweaty hands. Clint wasn’t sure of how he’d ended up there but it had happened. His head was resting against Barney’s chest. One of Barney’s arms went under his legs, deftly lifting him onto the hospital bed.

“Don’t wanna stay here.”

“Clint.”

“Fiiiiiiiiine. How’s the girl?”

Barney ruffled Clint’s hair, avoiding touching the side of his head that ached.

“She’s gonna be OK. A little bruised and cut up, but OK.”

“That’s good.”

Clint then fell asleep.

*

When he woke up, he was in a hospital bed with Ronin sat on his pillow. Dean, Thor, and Bobbi were there, peering anxiously down at him.

“Hey.” said Clint through a mouth full of cotton wool. “Was I supposed to fall asleep?”

Bobbi shook her head. When she spoke, it was slow and clear and she didn’t mind repeating herself until Clint understood.

“You were _supposed_ to stay awake. It’s the next day. Madam Pomfrey wanted to see how bad your concussion is.”

“Oh.”

“Barney had to be dragged to class by Jem.” supplied Thor.

His voice wasn’t as booming as usual. Clint couldn’t tell if he was being quiet because of their surroundings or if his hearing really was that fucked up.

“We don’t know.” said Dean. “Your brother won’t tell us anything.”

Whoa, Dean was a Legilimens. When did that happen? A mind-reader… a telepath! That’s what Muggles called them.

“You’re talking out loud.” said Bobbi, crushing Clint’s dream of forming a superhero team. “I’m not crushing anything, you’ve had painkillers.”

Madam Pomfrey appeared, ushering his friends out and leaving Clint at the mercy of a woman who frequently gave him disgusting potions.

“If you avoided injury more, I would not have to give them to you.”

_Another Leglimens??_

“Your concussion is worse than I thought.”

Well, that was rude.

“It’s my medical opinion.”

Madam Pomfrey did a variety of tests that seemed to involve waving her hand around his ear and telling him when to turn his head.

*

Clint was reading the _Green Arrow_ Frank had lent him when Barney reappeared by his bed. He’d since come down off the painkiller high, leaving a dull throbbing pain in the side of his head. Barney sat on the right side, the side that wasn’t currently underwater and in pain.

“Hey buddy. How’s it going?”

“I got my head slammed into a wall.”

“Well yeah. Apart from that.”

“My mouth still tastes weird from the potion.”

“So stop getting your head slammed into a wall. Uncle Alastor’s coming up.”

“Why?! I wasn’t that badly injured!”

Most people would lift their hands in a calming gesture here. Barney was not an idiot. He leaned back, keeping his hands low, and smiling slightly.

“OK, OK, take it easy there buddy. I’ll explain when Uncle Alastor gets here, OK? No need to stress.”

They waited in comfortable silence, Clint still reading _Green Arrow_ , Barney working on an essay. From the scowl on his face, it wasn’t going well.

“Charms?”

“Shut up.”

“Do you want help?”

“Yes.”

Barney dropped the essay in Clint’s lap, continuing to scowl as Clint made a few corrections. He didn’t rewrite the entire essay, just strengthened Barney’s original argument. Honestly, it was like he hadn’t even read the book.

“You know, you could show off your brain to other people. Instead of acting like a dumbass who goofs off in class.”

“I like pretending to be dumb. People don’t think I’m a threat.”

Barney’s face twisted. “You know I got yelled at by Xavier when you enchanted paper planes in his class?”

Clint grinned. “That was pretty funny.”

“ _Clint_.”

Clint just continued to grin. Barney gave up eventually and reclaimed his essay. He copied it out, adding in Clint’s suggestions. Uncle Alastor showed up not long afterwards, stomping through the hospital wing. He greeted Madam Pomfrey with a head nod. Then they started talking, while on Clint’s left side. Clint looked to Barney.

“Madam Pomfrey says Chick’s hit damaged your left eardrum. There’s a solid chance you won’t hear out of that ear again. She says you’re not fully deaf in that ear though, only like 60%.”

“Oh, is that all?” asked Clint, feeling sick. “But you can’t be an Auror if you’re deaf.”

A gnarled hand landed on Clint’s shoulder. Uncle Alastor looked apologetic.

“You think hearing is what the Auror department looks for? We want people who can think, who can assess a situation, neutralise a threat.”

“Yeah.” said Barney. “They still keep Uncle Alastor around and he’s lost an eye.”

“He got a better one.”

“So we’ll get you a hearing aid.”

“Can it be purple?”

Uncle Alastor smiled. “I suppose it can be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so that happened. Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments that have been left so far!! I'm glad you're enjoying this!


	20. Hogsmeade

** 17th January 1976- Clint: 12, Barney: 15 **

 

Gadreel was attempting to convince Aaron not to buy a fourth Chocolate Frog in the attempt to get a Nicholas Flamel card when Gabriel and Jem came over. Predictably, Gabriel’s hands were full of sweets.

“How do you eat that much sugar?”

“Don’t judge baby brother.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to continue being an ass as Akihiro stalked over. He was scowling but Aaron had learned he was always scowling. Just like Jem always looked angry.

“Any sign of Chick?” asked Aaron, mostly to stop Gabriel.

“None. Didn’t come to the common room yesterday. Lucifer says he didn’t sleep in his bed. Must think Barney’s going to set me or Jem on him.”

“I mean, he is.” said Gabriel. “We all know that. He set Jem on Black, remember?”

Jem’s face twisted into something unpleasant. Gabriel paid for his sweets and they headed outside as a group. Barney was backed against the wall of Honeydukes by a Ravenclaw boy. The boy was an inch or so taller than Barney, resting one arm by Barney’s head.

“Is Miles giving Barney shit?” asked Jem. “I’ll kill him.

Gabriel caught his friend’s arm. “I think Barney will kill you if you interrupt.”

Aaron’s initial thought that Barney was being threatened was clearly wrong on a second look. Barney was relaxed, his grin visible even from that far away. Miles said something and Barney ducked his head, running a hand through his hair.

“Merlin’s balls, is he flirting?” asked Jem.

“Does Barney know how to flirt?”

“Looks like it.”

Aaron snuck a look at Gadreel. His face was a mixture of hurt and resignation. He had never told Aaron about how he felt about Barney but Aaron was not a complete idiot. He’d seen the longing looks and the flushed cheeks. Miles tucked a strand of Barney’s hair behind his ear. Then he jerked his head in their direction. Barney followed his gaze. He said something to Miles who laughed and wandered away. Barney watched him go for a moment before ambling over to them.

“Were you flirting?” asked Jem, still sounding incredulous.

“Some people want to flirt with me.” replied Barney, oddly defensive. “Ash happens to be one of them.

“Ooh, Ash.” teased Akihiro. “First name terms now, are we?”

“Shut up.”

“I don’t like mullets.” said Aaron.

“Ash has a mullet.”

“Yeah and it looks stupid.”

It was the most ridiculous mullet Aaron had ever seen, the back going down past his shoulders. Barney just shrugged, dumb smile still on his face.

“Whatever.”

“He your date to the Slug Club?” asked Jem.

“Yeah.”

“I wanted to go.”

“Sorry, you’re not my type.”

“Bite me.”

“Still not my type.”

Gadreel said, “Oh fuck.”

As the strongest thing Gadreel usually said was ‘Merlin’, this stunned them all into silence. Aaron followed his best friend’s gaze, landing squarely on Chick and Lucifer at the end of the street.

“Jem, don’t do anything stupid.” said Gabriel immediately.

Jem was already baring his teeth. Chick swaggered up the street, Lucifer right behind him. He stopped a few metres away from them, still in the middle of the street. Hogwarts students were slowing down. Aaron could see Mulciber and Avery further down, as well as Sirius Black and Potter.

“Been lookin’ for you.” called Barney. “Somebody slammed my little brother’s head into a wall. You know anything about that?”

Chick shrugged. “Kid got in my way. C’mon, he should know better. Some random girl ahead of his own cousin?”

“Are you going to set Jem on him?” asked Lucifer nastily. “In the same way you set him on Black?

“You’re a chickenshit.” said Chick. “Just like your old man.”

Jem took a step forward but Barney caught his arm.

“Relax, Chick’s all talk. He can only beat up little kids.”

Chick flicked out a knife. Logically, Aaron knew he carried one. Hell, Aaron carried one outside of Hogwarts. But the ease with which Chick produced it… he was going to stab Barney. Barney shrugged off his jacket and passed it to Gadreel.

“You need a knife against an unarmed guy? Come on Chick, prove your balls haven’t shrivelled up completely.”

 ‘Unarmed’ was not really a word that could apply to Barney. His muscles were starting to get more and more defined and he was very capable of lifting Clint up. Aaron could feel the tension draw tight, even tighter when Chick laughed and threw his knife at Barney’s face. Barney caught it, flinging it into the wooden wall of Honeydukes.

“Come on you little fucker.” said Barney.

Chick charged. Aaron hastily pulled Gadreel out of the way. Gabriel skidded backwards, looking horrified. Chick took the first blow, delivering a powerful roundhouse kick into Barney’s hip. Barney staggered but recovered, blocking the next kick and sending Chick off balance. Then he moved close, delivering a series of punches into Chick’s stomach and ribs. He ducked the wild haymaker from Chick but couldn’t get out of the way of the uppercut. Aaron could feel his own jaw ache in sympathy.

“Merlin.” breathed Gadreel.

As Barney shook off the blow, Chick slammed a fist into his back. Kidney punches hurt like hell in Aaron’s experience. Barney stumbled, twisted, grabbed Chick’s clothes and dragged him round. He threw him then, slamming into the wooden wall that had previously had Akihiro leaning against it. Aaron had no idea where he’d gone but he didn’t dare take his eyes off the fight. The two cousins struggled, feet slipping in the snow. Somehow, Chick got Barney against the wall, slamming his own head into Barney’s. Blood spurted from Barney’s nose. Then Chick pulled another knife.

“Is he going to stab him?” asked Gabriel.

The answer was yes, the knife gliding between Barney’s ribs. A non-lethal place, thankfully, but not ideal. Chick then pushed himself away and began to head over to Lucifer.

“Chickenshit!” shouted Barney.

Chick turned. A throwing knife shot through the air, landing in the meat of Chick’s shoulder. Chick howled. Barney spat to the side then looked back up at Chick. His smile was bloodied and more than a little terrifying.

“I’m not done with you.”

He then shoved himself off the wall, bodyslamming into Chick. He pulled the knife from Chick’s shoulder and threw it to the ground. Then Barney slammed his fist into the bloody wound. Aaron swore, partly out of sympathy even for Chick and also out of sheer terror. Chick screamed but retaliated by punching Barney’s throat. Barney gagged but recovered admirably, swinging his fist directly for Chick’s head. Before it could connect, there was a jet of light and both boys were hurled backwards, away from each other. Thankfully, Barney stopped before he hit the wall. Black raced forwards, catching Barney when he tried to get up and go back to fighting. Lucifer and Akihiro were working together to hold Chick back.

“Let go of me!” snarled Chick. “I’ll kill you, I’ll kill your brother!”

“I’d like to see you try.” replied Barney.

His chest was heaving but he still sounded calm. Despite the knife sticking out of his ribcage. Aaron turned to see who had broken up the fight. Evans still had her wand out. But a far more frightening figure was there. McGonagall.

“Bring them inside, immediately.”

*

Gadreel looked down at the coat in his hands. It was Barney’s leather jacket, handed to him before the fight. Chick and Barney had both been dragged into the Three Broomsticks by McGonagall and Flitwick. Chick had lunged for Barney and Barney had gone for him too.

“Well.” said Lucifer. “That wasn’t how I expected today to go.”

Gadreel picked up Barney’s knife, the one that had been lodged in Chick’s shoulder. Blood coated the blade. He gingerly cleaned it with the Scouring Charm and slipped it into Barney’s jacket. Then he headed inside. Aaron was already inside, having pocketed the knife that got thrown into the wall at the start of the fight. Chick was currently in the common room, shirtless. The knife wound was being bandaged. His ribs were bruised and there was blood on his forehead, probably from where he’d headbutted Barney. Aaron was nowhere in sight. McGonagall gave Gadreel a stern look.

“I wanted to give Barney his jacket.”

“Upstairs.”

Chick was swearing viciously as Madam Rosmerta bandaged the stab wound.

“Madam Pomfrey will be here soon.”

Gadreel slipped up the stairs, knocking on a few doors. He finally found the right one when Aaron’s voice called “come in”. He entered. Barney was lying on the bed, Flitwick busily working on Barney’s own stab wound. Gadreel, foolishly, hadn’t expected Barney to be shirtless. Blood coated his mouth and his teeth were bloodstained. A dull bruise was forming along his jaw and along his ribs.

“I’ve got your jacket.”

Barney gave him a bloody smile. Gadreel could feel himself flushing. Fighting was not a good thing to find attractive, he reminded himself. He held the jacket in front of him, just in case. Flitwick shook his head. Aaron lingered by the window.

“Well, I’ve sped up the healing process but it will still hurt for at least a fortnight I’d say.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Don’t thank me young man, you are in an incredible amount of trouble. Come downstairs when you’re able.”

Barney waited for the professor to leave before letting out a long pained groan. Gadreel couldn’t tear his eyes away from Barney’s torso. Not just because of the bruises or the bandages but because of the long scar that ran the length of Barney’s chest, narrowly missing his pec. It was a deep ugly scar, still puckered and raised.

“Oh shit. Dumbledore’s here.” said Aaron, who was peering out of the window.

“Figures.”

“Fuck me, so’s the Old Man. And Aunt Miriam.”

“Wonderful. Go delay them.”

Aaron left immediately. Gadreel hovered, unsure of what to do. Barney pushed himself into a proper sitting position, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He groaned as he did so.

“Careful…”

Gadreel trailed off, fully aware of how ridiculous his next words would sound.

“Or I’ll hurt myself?” said Barney, half-smiling. “Aw fuck, my jaw.”

“Is it broken?”

“No. Just hurts like hell.”

Aaron reappeared in the doorway.

“Uncle Alastor’s on his way.”

“Where’s Jem?”

“Don’t know.”

“Find him.”

Aaron raced away again. Gadreel carefully put the jacket on the back of a chair and went over to the sink to fill up a bowl with water. He grabbed a towel too, guessing Madam Rosmerta wouldn’t mind too much. Or if she did, that the Old Man would sort it out. He headed back over to the bed, about to just offer the bowl and towel to Barney. Instead, Barney tilted his head up. Gadreel swallowed, very aware of how he’d done a similar thing to Ash Miles earlier. He dragged a chair over and wet the towel.

“Be gentle?” asked Barney with a smile.

“You should have thought of that before you got in a fight.”

Barney laughed then groaned. Gadreel set to work, apologising when Barney winced. Barney waved it off and Gadreel fell silent. When he was done, only the bruises remained. There was also a bruise forming on Barney’s throat.

“Does talking hurt?”

“A little. If Chick listened to Hansel it’d be worse.”

Barney glared at his shredded and bloodstained shirt but reluctantly pulled it on anyway. Gadreel had to help him out when he couldn’t lift his arms over his head. He also helped Barney shuffle down the stairs. The room was positively icy. Aaron and Jem were still nowhere to be seen. Chick was sat down still with a blonde lady fussing and cooing over him. Gadreel guessed she was Chick’s mother. Alastor Moody was stood there, arms folded. McGonagall and Flitwick were there too, probably as witnesses. It was the Old Man who was radiating anger though. He wasn’t a particularly tall man, most of the Moodys weren’t, and his hair was white but damn, he was still terrifying. He didn’t look particularly like Clint either, looking closer to Alastor. He was wearing formal robes, like Dumbledore, though his were dark blue not purple.

“You may go, boy.” said the Old Man.

“He has a name.” growled Barney.

“I didn’t give you permission to speak. This is a family matter, you may leave.”

Gadreel helped Barney to a chair.

“I’ll just get Barney’s coat for him.”

Once he’d done that, he left. And quickly.

*

Barney ached. Every inch of him ached. His ribs were the worst, especially the stab wound. It was radiating pain every time he breathed in or out. The back of his skull throbbed from where Chick’s headbutt had knocked it into the wall. He dragged his jacket round him, relieved that he could feel his throwing knife in his pocket. He’d have to thank Gadreel later.

“What exactly were you thinking, brawling in the middle of the street?” said the Old Man, icy cold. “You are one of the scions of House Moody, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. At fifteen, you should act like it.”

Barney didn’t know what a scion was. His back ached too from where Chick had kidney punched him.

“Chick beat some girl up. Cut her and was going to do other things. And he’s the reason Clint’s deaf in one ear.”

“My Chicky would never hurt his own family. Your brother must have attacked him.”

“Did you miss the bit where he attacked a thirteen-year-old girl?” replied Barney.

Ugh, his hip. That was going to make sitting on a broom uncomfortable. Although, by the time the stab wound healed and he was alright to play Quidditch again, the bruise would probably have faded.

“And you retaliated? She’s just some girl.”

“Francis!” said McGonagall, sounding shocked.

It was the first time Barney had ever heard anyone use the Old Man’s name.

“She didn’t deserve to be attacked.” replied Barney. “And Chick hit me first.”

Madam Rosmerta nodded. “I saw it kick off from the window. The blond lad kicked him in the hip.”

Barney waved a relatively pain-free arm in her direction. Uncle Alastor’s face was impassive. The Old Man started to rant again. Barney tuned most of it out but he did hear ‘disgrace to the family name’, ‘pair of animals’, and ‘just like their fathers’. That last one made him snap his head up. _Ow._

“What did you say?”

“I said the pair of you are like your fathers.”

“My dad’s the best!” snapped Chick.

Uncle Alastor said, “Which is why he’s being hunted for murder.”

“Yeah! Best dad I ever had.”

“I’m nothing like my father.” said Barney tightly.

Laughter and screams echoed in Barney’s ears. He clenched his jaw, willing the memories down and telling himself the pain in his scar was a phantom. _Not real, not real, not real, not real, not real._

“We must discuss Chick having knives at Hogwarts.” said Dumbledore.

Everyone left the pub at that, even though Chick had to be helped by his mother. She was still hysterical. Madam Rosmerta disappeared into the back room, leaving Uncle Alastor and Barney alone.

“Are you mad at me?” asked Barney.

“No. You did the right thing.”

Barney managed a smile. Fuck, one of his teeth was loose. It was a front one too. He wiggled it with his tongue and it completely detached itself. He spat it onto the table. Uncle Alastor chuckled.

“I don’t think Rosmerta will appreciate that.”

Barney grunted. Uncle Alastor leaned in conspiratorially.

“The name change came through. You should be appearing as Barney Moody now.”

“Good. So you’re not mad I had a throwing knife?”

Uncle Alastor shook his head. “Wait until you see your 16th birthday present.”

Barney laughed. “I think that’s a good thing. Ow, Merlin’s balls.”

“Go get some rest. You need it. And don’t forget to drink healing potions.”

“Yeah I will. See you Pops.”


	21. Valentine's Day

** 14th February 1976- Clint: 12, Barney: 15 **

 

“Listen, listen.” said Dean. “Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

Benny laughed. “Have you always been so romantic?”

Clint leaned his head against Bobbi’s knees, grinning. They were on a set of stairs in the Entrance Hall, out of the way enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed by people going to and from the Great Hall but they could still see the Entrance Hall itself. And be seen, since they were waiting for Thor and Frank. Thor had a history of just… wandering past despite being shouted and waved at.

“No, listen, none of these couples are still gonna be together in a month. I bet.”

Clint tilted his head so he could meet Bobbi’s eyes and rolled his own. She grinned, combing her fingers through his hair.

“It’s not Dean’s fault nobody wants to send him a card.”

“Did you send a card?” asked Benny.

“No.” lied Bobbi.

Clint was there when she sent it. But in the interests of a) not betraying his best friend and b) not being murdered in his bed, he said nothing. Frank had also sent a card to someone but he had refused to say who.

“Thor!” shouted Dean. “THOR!”

Predictably, Thor walked straight past the staircase and into the Great Hall. Clint sighed. He would volunteer to get up and get him but Bobbi’s knee was super comfy. He saw Jason walking down with some of his friends and called over to him.

“Jay! Jay! Can you get Thor for me?”

Jason gave him an unimpressed look. “I’m not an owl.”

“I dunno, you’ve got massive eyes.” replied Clint. “Come on, please?”

“Don’t insult people who are bigger than you.”

“Then I wouldn’t insult any of you. Come on.”

“I don’t even know which one Thor is.”

“The big blond Gryffindor one. Please Jason? You’ll be my favourite cousin.”

“We both know that’s Will.”

“Second favourite cousin.”

“Fine! Fine, I’ll go and get your dumb friend.”

“Thank you!!”

Jason disappeared into the Hall, shaking his head as he said something to his friends. Benny leaned against the wall and popped an Ice Mouse into his mouth.

“Anyone want one?”

“Me please.” said Bobbi.

“Me.” said Dean.

“Didn’t your mum teach you any manners?”

“She died when I was four. No.”

Clint scuffled his feet. Dean had never mentioned his mom before so Clint had thought she was probably dead. But still. Four.

“I am here!” boomed Thor, arriving at the bottom of the stairs. “What are those?”

“Ice Mice. They make your teeth squeak. Wanna try one?”

“Yes!”

Thor then swallowed it whole, much to Benny’s chagrin. As he was explaining the correct way to eat Ice Mice, Frank arrived. He looked dejected, head hanging down. He collapsed wordlessly onto the bottom stair below Dean. Thor, who had taken a position below Clint, reached out to pat his shoulder.

“She did not take the card well?”

“No. She did not. Apparently she hates Valentine’s Day too.”

“I’m sorry dude.” said Clint.

Frank shrugged. “There’s always next year, I guess.”

Natasha and her friends, Rogers and Barnes, came out of the Great Hall. Natasha saw him and changed direction. The boys followed her, stopping a few feet away. Natasha deftly climbed around Frank, Dean, and Thor, to kiss Clint on the cheek.

“Thanks for the card.”

“Did you like it?”

Clint had convinced Gabriel to buy one on his Hogsmeade visit. Jem had been serving detention for breaking a suit of armour and Barney was currently avoiding walking long distances. Which included Hogsmeade. Most of his bruises had faded, leaving only the stab wound and the damage to his jaw to heal. And he now had a fake tooth.

“Yes. It’s lovely. Where did you get the Russian from?”

“Dictionary. Did I get it right?”

“Almost.”

Clint grinned as Natasha kissed his cheek again and left. Barnes scowled at him as the three of them headed off to do… something. Clint didn’t see much of Natasha at Hogwarts. Bobbi tugged strands of his hair.

“Ow?”

“I’m trying to braid it.”

“It’s too short.” replied Clint. “Ow!”

Bobbi sighed, as if Clint had deliberately cut his hair to deprive her of hair-braiding opportunities.

“Do mine!” said Thor.

Clint reluctantly swapped places with Thor, resting his head on the side of Benny’s thigh and his back against the wall. It was still reasonably comfortable.

*

Clint’s arms ached as he made his way back from archery practice. He’d also had some of Hagrid’s rock cakes. As long as you gnawed in the right place, they were really tasty. He entered the Entrance Hall, ready to head down to the kitchens and grab some toast when Bobbi appeared.

“Hey- oof!”

She flung her arms round him and kissed his cheek.

“Thanks for the card. It made that idiot Lockhart furious.”

“I’m always happy to help piss off Lockhart.”

“See you!” said Bobbi as she darted off with another Ravenclaw.

Clint grinned after her before making his way to the kitchen. Barney was already in there, talking to one of the house-elves. He laughed at whatever she said and eagerly accepted a cake.

“Hey. I thought you’d be on a date.”

Barney twisted, knife handle appearing in his palm before vanishing up his sleeve. Clint ignored it and came and sat next to him. One of the house-elves arrived with a plate of toast.

“You’re the best Frennic.” said Clint sincerely.

Frennic’s ears wiggled as he bustled off, muttering to himself about students being too kind.

“So, date?”

“I went on a date. I think.”

“You think?”

“Me and Ash hung out in the library, just us.”

“And Madam Pince.”

“You’re being a shithead.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyway. So it was just us at the table. And he sat next to me. Which he didn’t have to do. We were at a table for four. And we were studying and his leg kept bumping mine. And then he walked back to my common room. And then I told Akihiro who said I should have kissed him and then we went to eat, I saw him, kissed him, panicked and now I’m here eating my feelings.”

Clint’s silence was not because he disapproved of Ash Miles with his brother. Clint’s silence was because this was a lot of information to take in in thirty seconds. And at twelve, he didn’t have a great deal of experience with dating. Barney was tapping the table with his thumb, apparently unaware he was doing it.

“Maybe you should talk to Ash about it. He’s a cool guy.”

“You want me to _talk_ to him?” said Barney incredulously.

“Fine, stay here and eat cake.”

“Eat your toast.”

“How’s your stab wound?”

“It’s fine. It’s almost healed. Madam Pomfrey says I can get back on my broom on Monday.”

Clint chewed his toast pensively. He’d known, from the minute Barney had charged into the hospital wing, he’d known Chick was going to get attacked.

“Why didn’t you get Jem to beat Chick up? Why did you do it?”

“Because he hurt you.”

“Black hurt me. You got Jem on it that time.”

Barney took a swig of his drink.

“Let it go.”

“But-”

“Clint. Let this one go.”

Clint, toast finished, got up from the table. He hugged his brother before making his way to the door.

“Good luck with Ash.”

As Clint was heading back to the Hufflepuff common room, he spotted Ash waiting outside. Ash pushed himself off the wall when he saw Clint.

“Hi.”

“Where’s Barney?”

“Kitchens.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as happy with this chapter but I rewrote it four times so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Let me know what you think!


	22. Anniversary

** 18th June 1976- Clint: 12, Barney: 15 **

 

If anyone asked, Barney was not sulking. The fact that he was holed up in his room, slumped against his wall and glaring at the ceiling meant nothing. He was fussing Trick. Nobody sulked when they were playing with a cat. There was a knock at his door.

“Go away.”

OK, maybe he was sulking. The door was locked anyway. Until the person on the other side muttered under their breath and the lock sprang open. Usually Will respected his sulkiness and Uncle Alastor was having a super-important Order meeting that Clint wasn’t supposed to know about.

“Hey.”

Jason was stood in the doorway. On the list of cousins Barney had thought might turn up, Jason was not one of them. Jem, sure. Hansel or Gretel to try and cheer him up.

“What are you doing here?” asked Barney, too surprised to care about sounding rude.

He liked Jason but the two of them weren’t close. They were in different houses at Hogwarts, different years, and Jason never got in any fights for Barney to break up. Jason came in, closing the door and locking it. He sat on the floor next to Barney, instead of the perfectly good bed or desk chair.

“I know what day it is.” he said quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Hard to forget the day your granddad breaks down crying in the living room.”

“Oh.”

Jason stretched a hand out. Trick sniffed it cautiously before rubbing his cheek against him. Jason smiled.

“My dad died a week earlier. I mean, the anniversary is a week earlier. He died six years earlier.”

Barney watched Jason fuss Trick. He had a couple of callouses, like Barney, from gripping a broom. He was a good Keeper, one of the few that Barney actually found a challenge.

“You never talk about him. Your dad.”

“Gramps and Gran cry, Uncle Alastor isn’t exactly chatty. And you never talk about your mum.”

“Tell me about your dad.”

Jason smiled suddenly. Barney had never noticed how little he smiled. He was always the quiet one, the one not getting in a fight, the one not doing anything wrong.

“He was amazing. My mum was a Muggle you know. Dumped me and dad when she found out about magic. He had to obliterate her.”

“He what?!”

“Obliviate!” said Jason, laughing. “Obliviate. Sorry, that probably hits too close to home. Anyway, my dad was the best. He came to every school thing I had. Sports day, when I came last, he took me out for ice-cream. It was maybe, three, four months later, he sent me to the shops to buy some milk. I came back and the Dark Mark was over the house.”

“Was he…”

“Not quite.” replied Jason. “Not quite. Bleeding out on our doorstep. A dead Death Eater on the garden path. I had to step over them to get to him. Dropped the milk when I saw the mark.”

Barney whistled low under his breath. The whole house seemed to have stilled as Jason talked, even though Barney knew Will and Uncle Alastor were downstairs. Even Trick had gone still, looking up with huge green eyes.

“I went running over to him. And he smiled. Tried to tell me I’d be OK. Can you believe that? Bleeding out, dying, and he tells me I’ll be OK. Like _I’m_ the one dying.”

“He sounds like a helluva guy.” said Barney. “I wish I’d met him.”

Jason smiled again, swiping away a tear. He seemed remarkably calm but he’d had nine years to recover. Barney searched for something else to say.

“My mom always baked a cake when I came home from Ilvermony. Always. Christmas, Easter, summer. Any flavour I wanted. So it was always strawberry.”

“Yuck.”

Barney grinned. “Clint said the same but he always tried to sneak an extra piece. She loved jazz too. You know that fifties music? She loved that. Always had it on when Dad was in a good mood. He hated it usually. It was playing the night she died.”

“Did you really see the whole thing?”

“I caused the whole thing. I went downstairs. For a drink or something, I don’t even remember. Her and Dad were dancing in the kitchen. I didn’t even want to interrupt, they looked so happy. But I must have made a noise or something because they stopped.”

He closed his eyes, thinking back. His mom never looked that happy, not after Clint was born. She always looked pinched and unhappy. Dad had been laughing, face lit up. He’d spun her, given her a kiss. Barney’s parents never kissed. Not in front of them.

“I came in, said I didn’t mean to interrupt, they could keep dancing if they wanted. They were good. And Dad stepped away from Mom and told her he needed her help. And mine too. That it was for a good cause.”

Barney felt his mouth twist as he spat the last two words out. He knew exactly what his father’s ‘good cause’ had been now.

 “I remember Dad getting a knife and coming at me. I moved and he got me here,” Barney gestured to the long puckered scar on his forearm, “and I punched him. First time I ever hit him back. Mom caught his arm. He let me go. She was screaming, he was yelling. Then he stabbed her. And then he stabbed her again. And again. Seven times.”

“What the fuck?” said Jason.

“Yeah. That’s what I said. I don’t know why he started stabbing me. Fists were always good enough for him. Then he just… took off. Disappeared. I think the Aurors think he’s somewhere in Senegal.”

“Maybe the sun will burn him to death.”

Barney smiled. “That… I like that idea.”

*

Clint swore as he tripped over a tree root. This had seemed like an excellent idea, right up until he had actually gone into the park. Bobbi was with him, carrying the flowers.

“So, your mum really doesn’t have a grave?”

“No. Goddammit, how many trees does this park have?!”

“It’s the largest public park in Europe, quite a few.”

“I mean, she does have a grave.” said Clint. “She’s got an actual grave with like a headstone and everything back in Waverly. But we’re not there anymore. And she’s got the marker in the Moody cemetery up in Underhill. But we’re not there right now. I just… I don’t want her to feel lonely. Nobody visits her grave. And I don’t know if anyone visits the marker.”

Bobbi stayed quiet until they got to the spot Clint had been looking for. It was a small pool, cut off from the view of most of the public by trees leaning down between it and the boating lake. Clint had found it by accident, when he and Will had gotten lost during the Christmas holidays. It was the sort of place that would make Clint’s mom sigh and say ‘It’s pretty enough to make you believe in magic’.

“Wasn’t she a witch?” asked Bobbi when Clint told her this.

“I asked her that once. She said she meant a different kind of magic.”

Clint stepped off the path and onto the soil. There was a small rock that he’d propped up, serving as a headstone. He knelt down, ignoring the mud that seeped into his jeans. Bobbi gave him the flowers and withdrew.

“Hey Mom. It’s me, Clint. I hope you can hear me. I miss you. Barney misses you too, I know he does. Uncle Alastor says hi. He takes out that photo of you, him, Uncle Jaime and Uncle Douglas that you had in the living room when he thinks I’m not looking. I think you’d’ve liked coming back to England.”

He traced the lines of the stone with one hand, thinking of something else to say. But there wasn’t anything, not really.

“I miss you Mom. I’ll come see you at Underhill the next time I’m up there.


End file.
